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COPYRIGHT DEPOSm 







Mr. and Mrs. 
Hannibal Hawkins 



By 

BELLE 

C. 

GRE’JIlSlE 


Author of ''Ad- 
ventures of an 
Old Maid,'* "A 
Hobbledehoy** 
Etc. 


B 


ILLUSTRATED 

BY 

WHINNERY 


AMERICAN PUBLISHERS CORPORATION 

310-318 Sixth Avenue, New York 



.k.aiisschl.^ privile^irl: 


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A SPECIFIC FOR SKIN DISEASES 

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Nature of the 

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The leading physicians of Germany and Austria have approved and recommended this 
article since its introduction in 1848, as 



MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS, 


Mr.& Mrs. H ANNiBAL Hawkins 


BV ^ 

BELLE C. GREENE 

U 

AUTHOR OF 

“adventures of an old maid,” “a new ENGLAND CON- 
SCIENCE,” “A NEW ENGLAND IDYL,” ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED BY IVHINNERY 



APfi 5 1 






■•LvirO 


V 


NEW YORK 

AMERICAN PUBLISHERS CORPORATION 

310-318 Sixth Avenue 




/ 




Copyrigkiy iSqtJy 

American Publishers Corporation, 



CONTENTS 


CHAPTBB PAGE 

I. The Wedding Day, , . .. . , .7 

II. The Bridal Tour, 21 

III. Among the Bohemians, . , , , 33 

IV. At the Play “Camille,” .... 50 

V. Car’line, 63 

VL Major Hawkins’s “Regiment,” ... 79 

VII. Aunt Betsey’s Boudoir, 87 

VIII. They Wrestle with Science and Theology, 99 

IX. Mrs. Gribbin’s “At Home,” .... 109 

X. Hannibal’s Literary Fury, .... 126 

XI. Cousin Polly’s Visit, ...... 135 

XII. Polly and the Real Estate Agent, . . 147 

XIII. The Post-Office in Time of a Boom, . . 159 

XIV. Cousin Polly’s Oil-stove, autd How it Worked, 169 

XV. Car’line’s House Warming, .... 178 

XVI. Mrs. Deacon Plummer’s Thanksgiving, . 192 

XVII. Car’line’s Christmas, ..... 208 






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CHAPTEE I. 


THE WEDDING DAY. 

It’s funny I hadn’t never thought anything 
about it before, but when Major Hawkins, my in- 
tended husband, asked me to app’int our weddin’ 
day, all to once it seemed to me as if there wa’n’t 
many days in the week jest right for gettin’ mar- 
ried in. 

You see, Monday is washin’ day, and Tuesday 
is ironin’ day, and of course nobody would be 
married a Friday — and Saturday is bakin’ and 
cleanin’ up day — so there’s only Wednesday and 
Thursday left, and me and mother wanted that 
much time for doin’ odds and ends of work, and 
to kinder “ turn round ” in, as you might say. 
So I set the weddin’ day for a Sunday mornin’ 
before fust service. 

Perhaps that was ruther soon, but there wa’n’t 
no real good reason for puttin’ it off, Hannibal 
bein’ a widderer now goin’ on four year (a very 
respectable length o’ time, I call it, don’t you ?) ; 
and I, wall, I hadn’t never been married, though 
I’d had plenty of chances, and, to tell the truth, 
I’d been old enough to be married some consid- 
er’ble time. 


8 MB. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


Hannibal hadn’t no family except an only 
daughter, Car’line, about sixteen year old, and 
she wouldn’t object, bein’ she was almost as fond 
of me a’ready as if I’d been her mar. So things 
seemed to be pretty favorable. But right here I 
must stop and say that I had found out the man I 
was goin’ to marry was what you’d call odd, ter- 
rible odd, and though we’d been keepin’ comp’- 
ny together for some time and I’d had every 
chance to git acquainted, yet I felt morilly sar- 
tin that it would be a good while longer ’fore I’d 
know him all through. 

Not but what he was a likely man, more tew, 
for he alwers had the name of bein’ a good hus- 
band to his fust wife, a good pervider, and all 
that, but, as I said, he was odd, and no mistake 
about it. 

Wall, he come over the Saturday mornin’ be- 
fore the weddin’, “ so’s to be on hand,” he said, 
“ and kinder dew for me and mother.” We 
hadn’t no men-folks in the house ’ceptin’ Caleb 
Jones, the hired man, and he wa’n’t much de- 
pendence at sech a time. 

It was about eight o’clock in the forenoon 
when Mr. Hawkins ’rived, and an hour or two 
later I got a letter from his daughter Car’line. 
It was marked private and post haste, and read 
thus: 


“ Deab Miss Robbins ” (that’s me, Ruth Ann 
Robbins, you know): “I write to caution you 


MR. AND MRS. HANNTBAL HAWKINS. 9 


about Par. I feel awful ’fraid that the clo’es 
he’s took along to be married in, ain’t right. 

“ Last night he was struck all to once with one 
of his odd streaks^ and insisted on packin’ his 
own bag — a thing he never done before in his 
life scurcel}^ — and I don’t know what he’s gone 
and put into it. Please look him over real sharp 
’fore he goes in where the folks be, won’t you ? 

“ Pm sorry I can’t come to the weddin’ ; but 
you see it is this way. I cut off my bangs yes- 
terday, and I got ’em so short that I look jest 
too homely for anything. I’ve cried myself most 
sick, I’m so disapp’inted not to go. Oh, how I 
wish I hadn’t cut ’em at all ! I alwers get ’em 
too short ! 

“ Par says I’m wicked silly to stay home on ac- 
count o’ my hair, but I can’t help it — I really 
carCt go and show myself sech a fright to all 
them folks — so there ! 

‘‘ I send you my best love, and hope every- 
thing will go off well. 

“ Your lovin’ daughter that is to be, 

‘‘ Car’line Hawkins. 

“ P. S. I’m almost sure Par has took odd hoots. 
Please look out for him.” 

I laughed when I read her letter ; it didn’t 
trouble me much of any. Thinks I to myself, 
“ he’s old enough to pack his own bag, and if he 
is a gump and a fool, the quicker we find it out 
the better.” I felt the wust because Car’line 


10 MB. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


wa’n’t cornin’ to the weddin’. I was awful fond 
of Car’line, and it worried me to think she would 
be so silly about them bangs. 

Come Sunday mornin’, when it was time to 
dress ourselves, Hannibal took one room and I 
another, and we begun. I’d jest got my hair all 
down when Hannibal hollered to me, and said 
he, 

“ Euth Ann, I wish you’d bring in your needle 
and thread and dew a little job o’ mendin’ for 
me. I find my vest is all split out in the back ; 
though goodness knows how in natur’ it come so. 
I never wore it but once in my life j it’s a bran’ 
new one ! ” 

I thought then of Car’line’s letter, and when I 
see the vest I knew in a minute that he’d took 
the wrong one. But I sewed the old thing up as 
well as I could — a pretty lookin’ vest it was to be 
married in — and went back to my room, feelin’ a 
good deal disturbed and anxious. 

His next predickerment was wuss yet. This 
time he spoke to me so kinder quick and sharp, 
that I knew it was somethin’ serious. I was jest 
puttin’ my dress over my head, but I hurried in 
quick’s I could to see what was the matter now. 

When I opened the door, there stood Hannibal 
in the middle o’ the room, lookin’ down per- 
plexed and inquirin’ like at two old boots — you 
couldn’t call ’em a pair, for I knew the minute I 
set eyes on ’em that they both belonged to one 
and the same identical foot ! They both had a 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 11 

round nob stickin’ up conspickewous where the 
big* toe went, and another great bulgin’ one for 
the toe j’int. I hadn’t never noticed anything* 
peculiar ’bout Hannibal’s feet, but them two 
boots did look curi’s enough. And they looked 
kinder wicked and knowin’, somehow, as if they 
was enjoyin’ themselves ! 

I laughed, I couldn’t help it, but Hannibal 
didn’t even smile. He turned to me, and said he, 

“ Do them two boots look right to you ? ” 
Then he tried on one, and that was well enough ; 
he put on the other, and — wall, you can imagine 
how it looked ! 

Of course the nobs and bulgin’s come in the 
wrong places, and the hull foot was hind side 
afore and wrong side tew, as you might say ! 

He took ’em off and revarsed ’em, but still 
they continnered to disagree and look wicked at 
one another. He squared ’em up together as 
square’s he could, and said he, 

“ Euth Ann, I believe them boots is odd ! ” 
Ondoubtedly they be, Hannibal,” says I, 
“ and they look odd ; but how do they feel ? Can 
you wear ’em ? That is the question.” 

“ I don’t care a continental how they feelf he 
answers, awful savage, ‘‘ I’ll wear ’em if they kill 
me ; but I dew wish they didn’t look so like the 
— the evil one ! ” 

You can imagine my feelin’s ; but I knew and 
realized that we’d got to make the best of the 
sitiwation, so I says : 


12 MB. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


‘‘ Oh, I guess they won’t be noticed. But you 
must be sure to set with your feet on the floor 
and well drawed back under your chair ; and you 
mustn’t on no ’count whatsomever cross your 
legs — or if you do, be sure and have the good- 
lookin’ foot on top, you know.” 

Then I had to leave him. I was all worked up, 
but I managed to finish my toilit, and when I 
was dressed I went into the spare chamber where 
the couples that were goin’ to stand up with us 
was waitin’. I found them all right, and finally 
Hannibal was ready, and him and me locked 
arms and perceeded to go down-stairs, follered 
by the others. 

Cousin Tripheny and B’yal Hunt come fust, 
then Mandy Gorman and John Bay, then Cousin 
Seraphine and Siar Chase ; there was six of ’em, 
and they made a noble ’pearance, tew. 

Jest as we got on to the stairs, and Hanni- 
bal and me was most to the bottom, all of a 
suddin he claps his hand to his head, and whis- 
pers : 

“ Kuth Ann ! I must go back a minute ! You 
wait right here ! ” 

“ No, Hannibal,” says I, pullin’ him along, “ you 
can’t go back — how it would look ! ” 

“ But I tell you I must and will go back ! ” says 
he, jerkin’ away and stridin’ up the stairs. 

The percession stood stock still (what else 
could they dew ?), and fust one then t’other whis- 
pered down to know what upon airth was the 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 13 


matter, and the folks in the parlor begun to peek 
out and buz. 

I concluded as long’s I couldn’t be married 
without Hannibal, I might as well go and look 
after him. Thinks I to myself, “ who knows but 
what he means to put an end to his miser’ble, 
odd existence!” So, when he rushed up the 
stairs and pitched head fust into his own room, I 
wa’n’t fur behind. 

And what did I see that great silly dew, but 
make a dive for the lookin’-glass and go through 
with the motions of brushin’ his hair, deliberate 
and arnest, as if — wall, as if he’d had some hair 
to brush ! (For he’s most as bald as a bed-post.) 

Oh, I was mad ! I snatched the brush away, 
and grabbed his arm. 

“ Hannibal Hawkins I ” says I, firm and deter- 
mined, I tell ye, “ Hannibal Hawkins ! you come 
down - stairs with me this instant ! I’ve had 
enough of your oddity for one day. I’ve bore all 
I can or will —and when we’re married,” says I, 
‘‘ I’ll take some of this ere nonsense out on ye, or 
else I’ll — ril see ! ” says I. 

He glared at me dretful, kinder dazed and be- 
wildered, but I managed to get him back down- 
stairs quick meter, and we all went into the par- 
lor and took our places in front o’ the minister. 

But it did seem as if delays and hitches was to 
be the order of the day, for jest as we got all 
ready, the minister was called to the door on im- 
portant business that kep’ him ten minutes or so, 


14 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


and there we all had to stand in the middle o’ 
the floor, lookin’ at one ’nother, and feelin’ awk- 
’ard enoug-h. 

Among the folks invited to the weddin’ was old 
Aunt Debby Griffin and Mis’ Ezry Potter, and 
they set close beside one ’nother. Aunt Debby 



was deaf as a post, and Mis’ Potter had lost her 
mind pretty much, but I . knew it would please 
’em both to come, so I invited ’em. 

Wall, while we was waitin’ for the minister, and 
the room was still as the grave, all of a suddin 
Mis’ Potter turned to Aunt Debby and screamed 
into her ear loud enough to wake the dead : 

“ Who did you say our Kuth Ann was goin’ to 
marry ” 


MR, AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 15 


And Aunt Debby screamed back jest as lond, 
though Mis’ Potter ain’t deaf a mite ; 

“ Mr. Hannibal Hawkins I ” 

Mis’ Potter nods her head appearently con- 
tented, and sets and rocks for about a minute; 
then she leans over and screams agin ; 

‘‘ What did you say his name was ? ” 

Aunt Debby tells her, and she nods and rocks 
as before ; but her poor old head can’t hold 
more’n one idee to once, so she hollers a third 
time, and, says she : 

“ What did you say her name was ? ” and Aunt 
Debby answers, patient and loud : 

“ Ruth Ann Robbins / ” 

Everybody was laughin’ by this time, and I 
don’t know how long them two poor old creatur’s 
would ’a kep’ our names goin’ back’ards and for- 
’ards if the minister hadn’t come in jest then and 
put an end to it. 

The ceremony perceeded along smooth and 
proper enough, till Hannibal undertook to find 
the ring to put on my finger. Then there was 
trouble. 

He fumbled fust in one pocket, then another ; 
took out a cigar, a little box o’ matches, a tooth- 
pick, a pen-knife, a horse ches’nut — that he al- 
wers carries to keep away rheumatiz, you know — 
and several other things, took ’em out one to a 
time, looked at ’em thoughtful and inquirin’, and 
put ’em back agin. 

Finally he dove into some place and took out 


16 ME. AMD MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


a little wad o’ paper, and all our sperits revived. 
That looked more like ; but when he ondid it, 
out rolled a dozen or more sugar-coated pills on 
to the floor ! 

He let the pills roll, and tried agin. This time 
he Ashed out a small card that ’peared to have 
some writin’ on it. (I found out afterward that 
he’d writ down on that card where he had put the 
ring, for fear he’d forgit, jest as he had !) 

When he’d read the card, what did he dew but 
stoop over deliberate and pull off one o’ them 
dretful boots, and shake the ring out of the toe 
on’t ! Then he put his boot back on, and straight- 
ened himself up as carm as if it was customary 
for bridegrooms to carry the ring in the toe of 
their boots, and takin’ my hand, he slipped the 
ring onto my Anger as graceful as you please! 
The Prince o’ Wales himself couldn’t ’a done bet- 
ter. 

Wall, I was thankful when it was all over, you 
better believe ! It hadn’t seemed a mite as I ex- 
pected. I supposed that the thought of the great 
responsibility I was assumin’, and one thing ’n’ 
’nother, would lift my soul and make me feel 
dretful solium and pious. But I declare to man ! 
I didn’t think o’ nothin’ from beginnin’ to end, 
but jest Hannibal’s odd hoots and odd actions / 
So little does it take to keep a woman’s mind 
from soarin’ 1 

After the ceremony we had cake and coffee 
passed round, and then as the bells was ringin’. 


MR. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. IT 


we perceeded to the church. It wa’n’t but a few 
steps, jest acrost the common. 

And we walked up the broad ile together, Han- 
nibal and me, I a-leanin’ on his arm, lookin’ my 
best, and he lookin’ hisn, with everybody’s eyes 
upon us ! I tried not to feel proud, but it was a 
happy moment for me, I tell you. 

And when we set down in the old pew, where I 
had set ever sence I was a baby, mother on one 
side, Hannibal on t’other, and me in the middle, 
it seemed awful pleasant somehow. Seemed as 
if I never loved the old church so well. Not that 
there’s anything nice or harnsome ’bout our 
meetin’-house in Craney Holler; it’s almost a 
bam compared to city churches, but it has one 
reccommend. It is surrounded by natur’, and the 
great winders was open so we could look out onto 
the common, all wavy with maples, then way off 
acrost the medders, and up, up to the pastur’ 
lands and the woodsy hill tops that seemed to 
touch the blue canopy of heaven. 

Oh, how can anybody that lives in the country 
feel to lack for religious privileges ! God is 
so nigh everywheres in natur’, and He speaks 
through her so plain and so direck ! Why, if I 
could get the time, if I hadn’t so much house- 
work and one thing ’n’ ’nother to dew. I’d make a 
practice o’ goin’ out every day as reg’lar as I say 
my prayers, to some beautiful, solium spot, a pur- 
pose to commune with my Maker through natur’. 
In no other way can we git so nigh to God. 


18 MR, AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


’**1^ As I said, it seemed oncommon pleasant to me 
^ in meetin’, that Sunday mornin’. The horses 
stompin’ in the sheds didn’t disturb me as usual, 
and the chirpin’ of the birds and the dronin’ of 
the crickets through the drowsy air sounded aw- 
ful nice and soothin’. 

Inside, the house was full of good, old-fashioned 
smells; patigony-mint and boy’s-love and tanzy 
and cammomile. For all the old ladies, and a 
good many of the young folks, had a bunch of one 
or the other, and perhaps a sprig o’ green cara- 
way seed to munch away on, in case they’s sleepy. 

I looked down to where dear old Square Bab- 
bitt set in his pew, right in front o’ the pulpit^ 
asleep and noddin’ so quick he was — and I no- 
ticed that one hand wisely supported his head 
in order to keep on his red wig o’ hair. But he 
wa’n’t alwers so careful, for I remembered how 
nigh he often come to losin’ on’t, and how, one 
Sunday, it did actewally slip clear off’n his bald 
pate, and how he jumped and clapped his hand 
to his head, and then all the young folks laughed, 
and some of the old ones. Even Parson Lamson 
jest barely saved himself by a timely sneeze ! 

Strange that all this should come back to me so, 
on my weddin’ mornin’, but it did, and a good deal 
more, and I had a hard tussle bringin’ myself into 
sj a proper frame of mind to ’tend to the service. 

' Mother always had a hymn-book to herself, on 
account o’ seein’ better, you know, so Hannibal 
and me we looked on together, and I had the 


MB. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 19 

proud pleasure of bearin’ him sing for the first 
time. 

He’s got a most powerful voice, Hannibal has, 
and bis expression does beat all ! Everybody was 
lookin’ at bim. Wby ! be acted it all out so, as you 
might say ! When be struck a bigb note, be riz up 
to bis full statur’, ballunced bimself kinder teen- 
terin’ on bis toes, stretched up bis neck, rolled bis 



eyes ’way inter tbe back part of bis bead, and sedi 
a tone as be did fetch ! — high — ob, terrible high ! 

And on tbe contr’y, when be sung a low note, 
be jest scroocbed all down inter his stummuck 
and cbist, and somethin’ rumbled way down in 
bis insides, low, ob, terrible low and solium ! I 
should say bis low “ A ” was tbe very lowest one 
I ever beerd in my life ! 

In short, bis singin’ was sartinly imposin’, and 


20 MB. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


I knew it imposed on everybody in the meetin’- 
honse. 

As for me, I felt so excited and lifted up by it, 
that I kep’ awake easy all through the sermon, 
didn’t even nod once, and was right on hand to 
rouse up mother and Hannibal in season for the 
doxology. Hannibal sung agin (and I s’pose the 
rest did tew, but I didn’t hear nobody but him) ; 
then come the benediction, and afterwards we 
walked out together as we came in, with every- 
body lookin’ and admirin’ and envyin’. And I 
tried to realize that I was married, and that this 
was my weddin’ day, but somehow I couldn’t, it 
all seemed like a dream. 


CHAPTEE II. 


THE BKIDAL TOUR. 

Hannibal said how he couldn’t take no extene- 
wated toor into furrin parts or so, because the 
busy time was cornin’ on pretty soon, and he must 
be to home tendin’ to his mill business. 

‘‘Fact is,” says he, ‘‘I hadn’t orter take scurce 
any toor at all jest now, I don’t see how I can be 
away.” 

‘‘ We might go like one couple I heard on,” 
says I, “ that is, go separate ; you go fust and 
leave me to look after the business, and when you 
got back, I could go and have my weddin’ toor.” 

Hannibal seemed to think ruther favorable of 
this plan, but finally he says : 

“ No, we’ll go together, or not at all ; but we 
won^ go fur. What say to New York City, Kuth 
Ann ? ” 

I told him I was agreeable, but I’d heard it was 
a monster place to spend money in. 

He said, “No matter if it was, we didn’t go on 
a bridle toor every day, and besides, he meant to 
take along some punkin sifters and sell enough 
to part pay expenses.” 


22 MB. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


(I’d orter told you before that Mr. Hawkins is 
in the Punkin-Sifter business, bein’ sole inventor, 
perprietor, and mannyfacterer of the celebrated 
Hawkins Punkin-Sifter — you’ve all seen it.) 

I thought the idee of takin’ the punkin-sift,ers 
along was a bright and equinomical one, and I felt 
jest as he did about makin’ the most of our bridle 
toor, seein’ we might never have another one. 

We concluded we’d go out by boat, then, if we 
wanted to, we could come back in the cars. We 
hadn’t ary one on us ever been on the salt water, 
and mother was dretful worried for fear we should 
be sea-sick. She put us up half a dozen lemons 
and some codfish — she’d heard tell how they was 
good for sea-sickness — and she charged us over’n 
over to have life -per servers handy night and day 
in case of shipwreck. 

Wall, we took the boat at New London, and a 
queer boat it was ! It looked enough like a boat 
outside, fur’s I know, bein’ shaped some like 
Noah’s Ark in the picters, but inside, my land! 
it was more like a king’s palace than anything 
else, I should say ! All white and gold, with 
beautiful carpits and velvit chairs, and curtins, 
and everything I Then, there was black waiters, 
more’n you could shake a stick at, standin’ ’round 
wherever you went. 

I should judge there were a hundred or more 
rooms, big and little, for the passengers to sleep 
in ; state-rooms, they called ’em, and they was 
fitted up nice and comfortable as you please. I 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 23 


obsarved that the furnitoor was all nailed down 
tight, and Hannibal said it was so that it would 
stay pat when the boat rocked and pitched in 
stormy weather. 

It was candle-light when we went on board, 
and pretty soon, feelin’ kinder hungry, we went 
down into the dinin’-room and had a nice supper. 
It seemed cur’is enough to be settin’ there, eatin’, 
and enjoyin’ ourselves jest as if we was to home, 
and yet to know that we was really out on the 
broad ocean. 

After supper we went up on deck. The moon 
was shinin’, though every once in a while it would 
go behind a cloud ; it was beautiful, and Hanni- 
bal and me took it all in and was dretful kinder 
contented and happy. 

We locked arms, and meandered round leisure - 
like awhile, and finally set down and convarsed 
together in low, underground tones. (N.B. I’ve 
noticed that well brought-up folks don’t never 
speak real loud in comp’ny, unless somebody’s 
hard o’ bearin’.) Wall, we set there talkin,’ and I 
s’pose I got to feelin’ uncommon sentimentle ; ’t 
any rate I spoke out to Hannibal as I never felt 
to speak before, and says I : 

“ Hannibal, I wonder if you feel to-night as I 
dew ? ” 

I dunno’,” says Hannibal. “ How do you feel ? 
not sea-sick, I hope % ” 

“No, no,’’ says I, “I feel as if my bein’ was 
complete at last, rounded out, full, as it were.” 


24 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


‘‘ Yes, oh, yes,” answers Hannibal, rubbim’ his 
head in a bewildered sort of way. 

“ You are my twin soul, and I am your’n.” (You 
see, I had read such talk in a book— I’m a master 
hand to read.) 

“ What say ? ” says Hannibal, rousin’ up a 
little. “ Twins ? Why, twins is ginerally broth- 
er ’n sister, or brothers, or sisters, or — or 
somethin’. Ain’t you a leetle grain off, Kuth 
Ann ? ” 

“ Oh, Hannibal ! ” says I, kinder out o’ patience, 
“I was speakin’ in a figgerative and spiritewal 
sense ! I mean that I am your other half, and you 
are mine.” 

“ Sartin’, sartin’,” laughed Hannibal, “ now I 
know what you’re drivin’ at. Of course I’m your 
other half, your ‘ better half,’ as they say.” 

I hove a sigh and give it up. I begun to sus- 
picion it was jest possible that sentiment might 
be throwed away on Hannibal, but I determined 
to make the best of him, and not the wust, as 
some wives seem possessed to do. “ If he’s only 
a good pervider, and don’t git drunk nor chew ^ 
terbacker, I guess I can put up with him,” says I 
to myself. 

We didn’t talk much more, but we continued 
to set for quite a while, till bimeby Hannibal 
turns to me all of a sudden and says : 

“ Euth Ann, I don’t feel very well, somehow ; I 
guess we’d better go inside.” 

I was on my ‘‘ kee veev ” in a minute. 


MB. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 25 


“ Oh, dear, Hannibal I ” says I, “ I do hope you 
ain’t goin’ to be sea-sick ! ” 

Oh, no, I guess not,” he answers ; but I see he 
felt shaky. 

“ Dear me suz ! ” thinks I, “ I dew believe he’s 
in for ’t,” but I didn’t say so to him. 

When we got into our state-room he took the 
lower shelf for hisn. 

“ I shan’t have so fur to fall,” says he, “ if I 
happen to roll out.” It struck me that he was 
oncommon considerate — for himself — but as it 
proved, it was jest as well for me; I didn’t get a 
chance to occupy no shelf, nor to git a wink o’ 
sleep that night. 

Hannibal was sea-sick, and he grew wuss ’n 
wuss, till he was about the sickest creatur’ I ever 
see. He e’t up all the lemons and codfish that 
mother had pervided, but they didn’t do him the 
leastest mite o’ good ; nothin’ seemed to help 
him. And oh, what a fuss he made ! 

Kill me, kill me, Kuth Ann ! ” he would groan, 
“ if you have one ioty of love for me, kill me 
quick, and put me out of torment ! ” 

I knew he was in terrible misery, but I did 
think he might a bore it ’a little more as become 
a man and a husband — not to say a soldier. 
Why ! a sick baby would ’a behaved better’n what 
he did ! 

I began to lose my opinion of his moril cour- 
age — fact, I began to doubt if he ever had any. 

“ A pretty bridle toor this is ! ” thinks I to my- 


26 MR. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


self, and I made up my mind that Major Hannibal 
Hawkins had got to be trained in some few re- 
specks, and by me. But for the present all I 
could seem to do was to bear with him, and tend 
him the best I knew how. 

' In the middle of the night the wind riz high 
and strong, till at last it blew a perfeck gale, and 
the boat rocked and pitched fearful. If the fur- 
nitoor hadn’t ’a been nailed down good and 
strong, we should all been hit and killed per- 
misc’ous, fur’s I know. 

Birneby, as the storm increased, Hannibal 
carmed down some, and seemed to colleck to- 
gether what few senses he had left. He made 
me get out the life-perservers, and we put ’em 
on, and then set there in ’em waitin’ our “ dooms,” 
as Hannibal said. 

I didn’t borry much trouble. I remembered how 
them wimmen, that Mister Stockton tells about, 
managed to git a good meal o’ vittles, and set the 
table for three, out in the middle of the ocean, 
and I reckoned I had as much gumption as they 
had, any day, and so I told Hannibal, and charged 
him to hang on to the lunch basket, whatever 
happened. 

Toward mornin’ the wind changed, and the cap- 
t’in said there wa’n’t no more actewal danger, bein’ 
as the wind was blowin’ us right where we wanted 
to go, and wp was most there. But some was so 
scairt and worked up that they wouldn’t believe 
^ but what we was goin’ straight to destruction 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 27 


dnyway, and Hannibal was one of them. His 
sickness had pretty much left him now, but he 
felt dretful weak and narvous, and insisted on 
dewin’ all sorts of foolish things. He run of a 
notion that the boat would go to pieces eventew- 
ally, and we should have to float or swim ashore, 
if we got there at all, and he said he considered 
it his dooty to take percautions, and ’cordin’ly he 
perceeded to take ’em. 

He made me throw away the lunch baskit 
(though I filled my pockits with do’nuts and 
cheese fust), then he ondid the satchel and in- 
sisted that we should put on most of the clo’es, 
and we did, fastenin’ ’em to our bodies any way 
we could, till we looked like anermated rag-bags, 
and nothin’ else. Then he took the empty satchel 
in one hand and the punkin-sifters in the other, 
and we started for the deck, there to await the 
final catastrofy. I ruther hoped we should be 
drownded or carried out to sea, we sartinly didn’t 
look fit to be seen ’mongst folks on dry land ! 

Meanwhiles we’d been so took up with our 
“percautions” that we hadn’t minded where 
’bouts we was, nor nothin’, and jest as we stepped 
out on deck, the boat give a tremenjus kind of a 
lunge, and bein’ as Hannibal and me hadn’t no 
base nor ballunce to us, rolled up and stuffed out 
as we was, we found ourselves knocked over, sud- 
den and simultanyous, as you might say. Han- 
nibal thought the boat was goin’ to pieces, and 
the time for action had arrove ! 


28 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


He ketched up the punkin-sifters quick as a 
wink, and flung ’em fur’s he could out to sea, 
threw the empty carpit-bag after ’em, and grabbed 
hold o’ me as if he meant I should follow soot, 
but I braced myself up ag’inst the cabin door, 
firm as a rock, and says I, 

“ Hannibal Hawkins ! that’ll dew ! Throw your 
punkin-sifters and all your airthly persessions 
into the sea, like a gump an’ a fool, if you wanter, 
but spare your bride of a day 1 Would you go 
twice widdered into the City of New York, and a 
murderer to boot ? ” says 1. 

This seemed to bring him to his senses some. 
He stared round and looked bewildered, rubbin’ 
his head as usual. 

“ Why ! What was it ? ” he said. “ I thought 
we was goin’ to pieces! Where be we, any- 
way ? ” 

“ We’re in New York City ; we’ve arrove safe 
and sound,” I answered carmly, as I pulled him 
away to f oiler the rest o’ the passengers out. 

When we came in plain sight of the folks, 
wearin’ our life persarvers, and all decked out 
in our clo’es as we was, everybody stared, and 
some laughed and hooted. I didn’t blame ’em 
a mite, nuther, and I told Hannibal so, and in- 
sisted on goin’ right back in and onriggin’ our- 
selves. 

“ Redickerlous ! ” says I, “ who ever heard of 
anybody’s wearin’ all the clo’es in a weddin’ 
trewso to once ! ” 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HA WKINS. 29 

When we was reduced to our original bigness, 
there lay a great heap o’ clo’es ; and how to carry 
’em ? that was the question. 

Hannibal ! ” says I, lookin’ at him severe, 
“ Hannibal, where is the bag ? ” (I knew too well 
where it was!) and he wrings his hands and 
groans : 

‘‘ Oh, what a fool, what a blarsted fool I’ve been ! 
And the punkin-sifters is gone tew ! ” 



“ Yes, they be,” says I ; “ but I begrudge the 
bag the wust. What’s to do about a bag ? ” says 
I, excited like. 

I don’t know what we should ’a done, if it 
hadn’t been for a good-natered musicianer — a 
bass-horn man, he was — he stepped for’ard and 
offered to lend us the great green woollen bag that 
he carried his instrument in ; said how he could 
spare it jest as well as not. 


30 MB. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 

Wa’n’t it real friendly? We accepted of his 
offer thankful enough, and when our things was 
all stuffed into the bag it made quite a good- 
lookin’ bolster ; but ruther a curi’s thing for a 
new-married couple to carry their bridle trewso 
in, that’s a fact ! 

As we was walkin’ away from the wharf, luggin’ 
the great green bolster between us, all of a suddin 
Hannibal stopped and squared round in his odd 
way, and lookin’ back over the water, p’inted with 
his finger. 

There, as i3lain as day, we see the punkin-sifters 
sailin’ in a percession out to sea ! They did sail 
nobly, and they looked affectin’, and no mistake ! 
The tears came into Hannibal’s eyes. 

‘‘ Kuth Ann,” he says, tremerlous, “ I’d give a 
dollar-bill to know where’bouts they’ll put in, 
and how they’ll fare ! ” 

“ Yes,” says I, “ I hope somebody’ll get ’em 
that will ’predate ’em ; then they won’t seem 
quite sech a dead loss, will they ? ” 

“ They’ll be a dead loss to us, Euth Ann,” he 
answers, shakin’ his head dismal ; “ and they 
was to help pay our boards at the Fifth Avenew 
House ! ” 

“ Oh, la ! now, Hannibal, don’t you fret about 
that ! ” says I, “ I’ll resk but what we’ll git 
along all right. We can hire a room cheap 
somewheres and board ourselves, if necessary. 
You hain’t no idee what a manager I be ! Why, 
I can cook a good meal o’ vittles out o’ next 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 31 


to nothin’, if the kindlin’s is only dry ! ” says I, 
laughin’. 

Upon this, he brightened up some, and when 
we took a horse-car and got fairly settled with the 
green bolster between us, we both began to feel 
as if things might ’a been a good deal wuss after 
all. 

In p’int o’ fact, our luck had turned, for we 
hadn’t been in that car more’n five minutes, be- 
fore she stopped to take on some passengers, and 
one of ’em (a master nice lookin’ young feller), 
quick’s his eyes lit on Hannibal, rushed for’ard 
and grabbed him by the hand, awful corjul. 

“ Major Hawkins ! by Jove ! ” says he. He did 
’pear dretful glad to see him, and when he was 
interduced to me he ’peared gladder yet. He ex- 
plained that he was kind of a cousin to Hannibal 
and had visited him when his fust wife was alive. 

“ So you’re married ag’in, and this is your new 
wife ! ” bowin’ to me as if I’d been the queen, and 
smilin’ till all his harnsome white teeth showed. 

Married, and on your bridle toor. I’ll be bound ! ” 
he says ag’in. 

We told him that was about it. 

“Wall, wall,” says he, “now you shall come 
right along home with me, and see how we live 
in Bohemy ! My wife and daughter will be de- 
lighted to have you ! ” 

“ Bohemy ? ” says Hannibal ; “ is it nigh about 
here ? we hadn’t thought o’ goin’ further’n New 
York City.” 


32 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


Oh, we shall be there in no time ! ” answers 
Mister Landsdown — that was the young man’s 
name. 

When we found Bohemy wa’n’t fur away, we 
was glad enough to go, for we both thought of 
the board bills and the loss of the punkin-sifters, 
and this invite did seem like a reg’lar providence, 
didn’t it ? 

In a few minutes more we found ourselves 
standin’ on Cousin Landsdown’s door-stun, and 
we was in Bohemy. 


1 ^/ 


/ 



CHAPTEK m. 


AMONG THE BOHEMIANS. 

Cousin Landsdown opened the front door with 
his latch-key, and begun stridin’ up the stairs, 
two or three steps to a time, shoutin’ at the top 
of his voice : 

“ Hullo’, there, Kate ! Hullo’, Blossom ! where 
are you ! Hullo’, hullo’, everybody ! ” and Hanni- 
bal and me we follered along after, luggin’ the 
green bolster bag between us. 

In a minute a door flew open and two wimmin 
sprung out at him. The youngest one, his 
daughter I took her to be, grabbed him round 
the neck, huggin’ him like all persess’t, not 
mindin’ anybody was with him. The other wom- 
an came for’ards more quiet like, smilin’ and 
holdin’ out both hands, real corjul, before she 
even knew who we was. 

“ Hold on, hold on, little one ! ” says Cousin 
Landsdown, extractin’ himself away from the girl 
as quick as he could, “ don’t you see we’ve got 
company along? Kate,” to his wife, “here’s 
Major Hannibal Hawkins and his new wife from 
Punkinville, and they’ve come to the city on their 


34 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


bridle toor ! I met ’em in the car and brought 
’em straight home to you — knew you’d be glad 
to see ’em ! ” laughin’ and rubbin’ his hands. 

“Here, Bloss,” he says to the girl, “ come and 
kiss your new cousins.” 

And ’cordin’ly Bloss did come and kiss us, 
tacklin’ Hannibal fust, and kissin’ him as he 
never was kissed afore, I guess, hingin’ her two 
arms round his neck, and half-chokin’ him and 
frouzlin’ his hair all up, so it took him some 
little time to rekiver and git smoothed down, I 
noticed. 

I didn’t exactly approve of sech a great growed- 
up girl makin’ so free with a strange man, if he 
was her cousin. Our Car’line wouldn’t ’a done so. 
Car’line would ’a blushed and hung back kinder 
bashful, waitin’ to be kissed fust. They was 
about of an age, I should judge, bein’ not fur from 
sixteen. 

Wall, they showed us into the parlor and I be- 
gan to take off my things, while they stood by 
waitin’ on me. Blossom askin’ all manner of 
questions. My land! that girl could ask more 
questions in five minutes than our Car’line could 
in a week 1 And when she see the green bolster 
bag she couldn’t rest till she knew all about 
it ; what was in it, where it come from, and every- 
thing. 

I told her our bridle trewso was in it, and 
then as brief as possible I give her an account of 
the hull matter. 


MM. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 35 


Oh ! hdw she laughed and hollered and hild on 
to her sides, as if she’d die ! 

“ Oh, mar ! oh, par ! ” she screamed, “ isn’t it 
too awfully derlicious ! Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! ” 

Cousin Landsdown and his wife laughed, though 
they didn’t make sech a fuss as she did, and 
they told her to go up garret and fetch down 
the brown luther valise, and she done so, and 
they give it to us on the spot for a weddin’ 
present. 

We was pleased enough, not only because it 
was a useful and harnsome present, but now we 
could send the bass-horn man’s bag back, which 
we did that very afternoon with our very best re- 
specks, an’ an invite to visit us if he ever come 
Punkinville way. 

The girl. Blossom, as they called her, seemed 
to take a wonderful shine to me from the fust. 
She was a dretful pretty, lovin’ little thing, and 
she hung round me, huggin’ and kissin’ me half 
the time. I wa’n’t used to it, and didn’t hardly 
know what to make on’t. 

“ Oh, see here, mar ! ” she would ’peal to her 
mar, every once in a while, “ ain’t she jest 
sweet, ain’t she derlicious?” meanin’ me, you 
know. 

Finally I says to her, ‘‘Blossom,” says I, 
“ seems to me you have a curi’s use o’ words here 
in Bohemy. Up home we ginerally apply the 
word ‘ derlicious ’ to somethin’ good to eat — a pie 
or a puddin’ — never to folks.” 


36 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


“But you are good enough to eat,” she an- 
swers, laughin’ ; “ you do look jest too sweet for 
anything ! ” 

There was mirrors hangin’ all round the room 
everywheres, and when she said this, naterally I 
glanced up into one, kinder sly, to see how I did 
look anyway, and she ketched me at it. Then 
she grabbed me round the neck and most 
smothered me with kisses ag’in. I never see 
sech a kisser. 

“ There ! ” she says, “ you can see for yourself 
what a darlin’ you be ! You look jest like a little 
strong-minded, old-fashioned dove, that’s what 
you do ! ” 

I laughed and kissed her back. There wa’n’t 
no harm in her likin’ my looks, and I wa’n’t a 
goin’ to pertend to be mad ; but more to see what 
she would say than anything else, I says : 

“ My face may be well enough, but my clo’es — 
I ain’t much fixed up ’side of you and your mar,” 
and I looked down at my gray alapaccer disap- 
provin’. 

“ I don’t care, you are lovely, clo’es and all,” 
she answers, “and your husband, he is lovely 
too! A great lovely giant. And oh, sech a 
name 1 ‘ Feehus ’ / as par says, what a name I 
Hannibal Hawkins / ” She said it over ’n over 
and laughed as if she’d die. 

“But the best on’t is,” she goes on, “you’ve 
come jest in the nick o’ time to be the lions at 
our dinner-party to-night.” 


MR, AND MRS, HANNIBAL HAWKINS, 37 


“ Dinner-party ! ” says I, oh, I guess we can’t 
go to no party ; we didn’t come perpared.” 

“But you are Acre,” she says, “so there ain’t no 
‘ go ’ about it ; you are here^ don’t you see ? ” 

“ What do you call it a dinner-party for, if you 
have it in the night-time ? ” I asks ; “ I should 
think it would be more of a supper.” 

“ Oh, we turn night into day, and day into 
night, here in Bohemy,” she answers. 

“ Bohemy, Bohemy ; what a funny name,” says 
I. “I never heard of no sech place nigh New 
York before. Is it a subbub, or what ? ” 

“ The name Bohemy don’t apply to the place 
where we live, but to the society we form,” she 
explains. 

“ Oh ! kind of a religious sect ? ” says I ; 
“ there’s lots o’ new ones now’days, I know.” 

She laughed and hunched up her shoulders. 

“ Oh, dear me, no ! ” she says ; but jest then 
her mar come in to call us to breakfast. 

“ Breakfast ! ” thinks I, “ at ten o’clock in the 
forenoon ! ” But I was glad enough to go, for I 
began to feel kinder faint and hungry. 

We went out to breakfast, and I must say we 
found our new cousins about as kind and hospita- 
ble as any folks we ever see. But they was curi’s. 
As I say, they was kind, but they didn’t treat us 
as if we was one of ’em ; more as if we was some 
sort of interestin’ curiosities, Feejy Islanders, or 
circus mounstrosities, to be looked at and studied 
and enjoyed, you know. I don’t think Hannibal 


38 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


minded, but it riled me. I didn’t fancy bein’ 
treated like a menagery. 

Come night, Hannibal and me put on our best 
doe’s and went down to the parlors. 

When Blossom come in, I didn’t hardly know 
what to think of her dress. I’d read about 

decollity'' dresses, and seen picters of ’em in 
the fashion-books, but Blossom’s dress was ter- 
rible “ decollity ; ” it did beat all ! and I hoped 
when her mar see it, she’d make her go right 
up -stairs and put on somethin’ different. But 
la ! I found out her mar’s was wuss yet, if possi- 
ble ! 

As a woman, and specially as step-mother to 
Car’line, I felt that I orter pertest, and ’cordin’ly 
I did. 

“ Blossom,” says I, ‘‘ how can you go to a party 
in that shape! why! me and Car’line wouldn’t 
think o’ goin’ round so, not even to home, on a 
hot day with all the blinds shet and the doors 
locked!” 

She seemed surprised. She looked down at 
her pretty bare shoulders and her arms without 
the sign of a sleeve to kiver ’em, and I couldn’t 
see as she blushed or even winked at the sight, 
and says she : 

“ Everybody dresses so here for evenin’ ; it is 
full dress, you know.” 

“ I should call it anything hui full dress,” says 
I. “ Why, you ain’t half dressed, not half ! ” 

She burst out laughin’. Oh, you funny, funny 


/ 



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MB. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 39 


little old-fashioned cousin ! ” she says ; ‘‘ you make 
me laugh ! ” 

All the ladies to that party was dressed the 
same way. I didn’t have a chance to free my 
mind to Hannibal about it till afterwards, but I 
hoped he knew me well enough to understand 
that I wouldn’t approve o’ no sech fashions, in 
Bohemy or out of Bohemy. 

Pretty soon we went out to dinner and set down 
to the table. Cousin Landsdown put me on his 
right hand, which I took to be the proper place, 
but I’d ruther ’a set ’side o’ Hannibal. 

I was so ’shamed and embarissed at fust (on 
’count o’ the decollity-dresses, you know), that I 
didn’t feel like lookin’ round much ; but bimeby 
I began to be so took up with what the folks was 
dewin’ and sayin’, that I forgot all about their 
doe’s. Funny, how quick we get used to things, 
ain’t it ? 

But it did beat all, the strange stories them 
Bohemianers had to tell about one another ! Why ! 
up in Punkinville you go to a party and the wust 
thing you hear is how somebody (that ain’t there, 
of course) is stingy, or extravergant, or desaitful, 
or homely, or tryin’ to ketch a beau, if she’s a 
woman. But here in Bohemy, I declare, they 
actewally took my breath away! Sech terrible 
things as everybody seemed to be a dewin’ of 1 

’Cordin’ to their tell, ’bout all the married folks 
fit with one ’nother, or got dirvorced, or run away 
with somebody’s else husband, and the young 


40 MR. AND MR8. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


folks ’peared to be cuttin’ up jest as bad ! And 
here they was, laug'hin’ and jokin’ about it, as if it 
was all a matter of course. But in mere jestice to 
’em I must say that it wa’n’t all gossip and scan- 
dal. No ! Sech high-toned and intellectible sub- 
jecks as they discussed on, I never see ! Sicology, 
Agnostycism, Boodism, and a lot more that I 
can’t remember the names on. Everybody ’peared 
to be edicated, oh ! terrible edicated, and I says 
to Cousin Landsdown : 

“ For the land’s sake, cousin, how do you Bo- 
hemianers happen to know so much ? I should 
jedge that every one of you had swallered a Web- 
ster’s Unabridged and a hull Encyclopedy to 
boot ! ” 

“Oh,” he answers laughin’, “in Bohemy no- 
body is tolerated unless he knows somethin’, or 
is agreeable. Ignorance and stoopidity is unpar- 
donable sins, while even a talent for lyin’ about 
our neighbors is appreciated, as you may have 
obsarved.” 

He turned to answer the woman that set on the 
other side of him. She was jest askin’ : 

“ What did you think of my article on ‘ Alicros- 
copy in Fiction,' Mr. Landsdown? ” 

“ Capital, capital ! ” he answers. “ I fancy it 
must ’a made old Eowley squirm ! Keen, keen 
as a razor, Mis’ Yan Allen ! ” 

The woman laughed out loud, and he laughed. 
Then, happenin’ to lean for’ard a little in her 
seat, she ketched me lookin’ at her. 


MR, AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 41 


“ Have you read it ? ” she asks, smilin’. 

“No, I hain’t,” says I, “what is, it about? 
What does microscopy mean ? ” 

She looked at Cousin Landsdown, and said 
somethin’ that sounded to me like “ Arlerbong- 
town ” (“ Ah le hon temps ! ”) and I naterally 
thought she was askin’ if I come from that place, 
so I says : 

“ No, I reside in Punkinville.” 

Cousin Landsdown laughed. 

“ Mis’ Yan Allen,” says he, “ let me interduce 
my cousin, Mrs. Hannibal Hawkins, from — Pun- 
kinville,” stoppin’ jest so, before the name. 

“ Hope to see ye well, Mis’ Yan Allen,” says I, 
and in reachin’ acrost cousin’s plate to shake 
hands with her, I knocked over two of his wine- 
glasses, and the contents went into his plate. 

Miss Yan Allen she give me the tip eends of 
her fingers. 

“ Charmed, I’m sure. Mis’ Hawkins,” says she, 
which may be the correck way to answer an in- 
terduction in Bohemy, but wouldn’t be considered 
so up our way. 

“You were askin’ what ^microscopy' meant,” 
says she ; “ perhaps Mr. Landsdown will be kind 
enough to tell us ; ” and she looked at him with 
her great laughin’ eyes, as if she was on the p’int 
of enjoyin’ somethin’ amazin’ well. 

“ Certainly, certainly,” says he, lookin’ down 
into his plate full o’ wine, kinder meditatin’. 
“ ‘ Microscopy ’ means literally, examination with 


42 MR. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


the microscope ; and microscopy in fiction is where 
an author takes his characters all to pieces, 
mentally, morilly, and physically, and examines 
’em with the microscope (of his mind, you know), 
and does it scientific’ly. For instance, in writin’ 
of a woman, he tells how she looks and feels, acts 
and thinks ; tells why she does this or that least- 
est thing, tracin’ the motives and causes way 
back to the fall o’ man, if necessary, and so goes 
on, in and out, back’ards and for’ards, till the 
reader’s head swims,” 

“ How queer ! ” says I. “ But what in natur’ do 
they dew it for ? It can’t be interestin’ to nobody, 
and it must be hard work. What do they dew it 
for ? ” I asks. 

“ The Lord only knows ; I don’t,” he answers. 

“ Now, if I was goin’ to write a story,” says I, 
“ I should make it lively, and go straight ahead. 
I don’t believe in meanderin’ or microscopin’. I 
guess I should tell how a woman loved a man and 
couldn’t git him for some time, how she worked 
and contrived to make him like her, and how, 
when she did manage to git him and marry him, 
at last, they proved to be incompattyble to one 
’n ’other, and was both miserable ; but how, after 
a good deal of bickerin’ and wranglin’, a good 
many sighs and tears on her part, and some con- 
sider’ble perfane language on his’n, they learn 
to git along together and live middlin’ comforta- 
ble ever after. Sech a story would be interestin’ 
and — and — nateral,” says I. 


MB. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 43 


Jest at this p’int we dropped the subject, for a 
young* lady they called Saffo began to say some 
poitry that she made up herself as she went along, 
and we all kep’ still to listen. I don’t remember 
but these two verses. Here they be ; 

When I am dead 
No cruel words can wound, 

No false friends injure or betray 
The heart that is but dust, — 

Ah ! Well-a-day ! 

When I am dead 
They’ll gently fold my hands 
Across my breast, and say, 

“ Poor soul, she is at rest ” — 

Ah ! Well-a-day I 

Every verse begun with When I am dead'' and 
ended with, “ Ah ! Well-a-day ! ” and it was awful 
sad and harrowin’, no mistake. 

I took it that Saffo had been disapp’inted in 
love, and treated shameful by some good-for- 
nothin’ scallywag of a man, and I felt real sorry 
for her. I wanted to dew somethin’ to let her 
know, so after she set down, I reached out and 
took her hand and looked at her sympathizin’ 
and meanin’, with the tears in my eyes ; but I had 
my labor for my pains. She only scowled and 
stared back at me as cold as a statu’. If she had 
died the next day, I wouldn’t ’a’ gone to the 
funeral ! 


44 MB. AMD MBS. HANMIBAL MAWKIMS. 


All this time I hadn’t kep’ track of Hannibal. 
I’d been so took up with one thing ’n’ ’nother, you 
know — and then he set way down on the other 
side of the table from me — but now I looked at 
him to see how Saffo’s poitry ’fected him, and — 
my land ! you might have knocked me over with 
a feather ! 

He was all settled down in a heap in his chair, 
and seemed to be slip, slippin’, as if he was go- 
in’ out of sight under the table eventewally ! 

“ Boozy ! if not intoxicated ! ” thinks I to my- 
self, “ and me, his wife, president of the ‘ W. C. 
T. U. I ’ ” More yet, Hannibal himself was con- 
sidered a strick temperance man, a prohibition- 
er, up home ; but, you see, six liker glasses of 
different shajoes and sizes standin’ all round his 
plate, had been tew much for him. 

Somethin’ had got to be done to once, but I 
reckoned I was equil to the ’casion. 

I whispered to the waiter standin’ behind my 
chair, and told him to carry Major Hawkins a 
cup o’ coffy, strong and hot, immejitly ; And no 
more wine ! ” says I, with a meanin’ look. 

Wall, he carried the coffy, and Hannibal drunk 
it and began to straighten up and ’pear better 
right off. 

And now I obsarved that the hull company was 
in pretty much the same fix, havin’ took more’n 
what was good for ’em. And they was beginnin’ 
to be noisy. Ladies and all was laughin’, reckless 
like, tellin’ stories, singin’ songs, and every few 


MB. AND MBS. JETANNIBAL HAWKINS. 45 


minutes somebody would perpose a '‘toast.'' I 
found out a “ toast ” was an excuse for takin’ an- 
other glass o’ wine, you know. 

While I was watchin’ Hannibal, still feelin" 
kinder anxious, all of a suddin a young man set- 
tin’ beside him, that they called Fitz James, 
springs to his feet and lifts his glass high above 
his head, his eyes flashin’, and his handsome face 
all of a flame : 

Drink, gentlemen ! ” he shouts, “ drink ! Drink 
once more, to our guest’s fair daughter ! Car’line 
is her name, and ’cordin’ to her paternal relative’s 
modest estimate, she must be altogether charmin’ ! 
Drink, then, gentlemen ! drink to little Car’line ! 

In a minute every glass was filled and raised, 
but simultanyous Hannibal riz tew, and stiddyin’ 
himself with one hand on the table, he lifted the 
other in a gestur’ of solium’ protest, as it were. 

“ Gentlemen,” says he, “ gentlemen, I objeck ! 

Upon that he drawed himself up gradewal to 
his full statur’ of six foot two, and when he was 
all up and had got his bearin’s, he looked round 
on ’em carm and stiddy as a clock ! 

“ My young friend here. Mister Fitz James, 
means well,” he continners. “ I alone am to blame 
for the liberty he’s took with my daughter’s name. 
You know some men when they’ve drinked a drop 
too much, begin to brag, and I guess mebby I’m 
one o’ that kind — ’t any rate I bragged — like a 
gump and a fool, and I didn’t know what I was 
dewin’ — about my daughter’s good looks and in- 


46 MB. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


nercent, winnin’ ways ! But, gentlemen — some 
on ye must be payrents — ” here he stopped, stam- 
mered, and begun rubbin’ his head, as he alwers 
does when he’s disturbed, and the company took 
advantage of the pause to pound the table and 
holler : 

“ Car’line ! Car’line ! let’s drink to Car’line ! ” 

Hannibal waved his hand as if he was goin’ to 
speak ag’in, and they changed their tune. 

“ Hear ! hear ! ” they shouted, laughin’ as if 
they considered the hull thing an awful good 
joke. 

Hannibal stood there firm now, as the rock o’ 
Dundee, and I see his jaw set. 

“ Yes ! you hear, all on ye ! ” he says, between 
his teeth. “ I say it shan’t be done ! I forbid it ! 
What ! put my little girl ’long with the wimmin 
you’ve toasted here in Bohemy to-night ! Gen- 
tlemen, it can’t be ” All of a suddin he choked 

up and stopped. The thought of Car’line seemed 
to ’feet him powerful. “If you knew her,” he 
managed to say, finally, “ if you knew my little 
girl, you wouldn’t think o’ sech a thing — as it is, 
I, her payrent, must forbid it ! ” 

He looked rpund on ’em and lifted one hand 
appealin’, then dropped it to his side in help- 
less elerquence, and set down. 

For a minate you could ’a heard a pin drop, it 
* was so still. Some looked sober and some looked 
mad. Cousin Landsdown looked both. His face 
was red as a beet, and he smiled dretful sarcastic 


MB. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 47 

as he turned to Hannibal, tryin’ to speak careless 
and onconsamed : 

All rig*ht, Major ; jest as you say, of course. 
I am sure the g'entlemen are satisfied,” he said. 

But I was sure they wa’n’t satisfied, and I knew 
that from their standp’int Hannibal must ’pear 
terrible disagreeable and unaccommodatin’. Not 
that I would ’a’ had him done a mite different ! 
No, I was proud on him ! But I hated to have 
’em feel hard towards us ; and what to do, that 
was the question. 

I thought a minate, then laid my hand on cous- 
in’s arm, and looked at him as friendly and be- 
seechin’ as I knew how, and says I : 

“ Cousin Landsdown, I feel as if we hadn’t done 
our parts towards entertainin’ you and your com- 
pany to-night; what say to my repeatin’ some 
poitry I made up ’bout Car’line — seein’ they seem 
interested in her ? ” 

He brightened up in a minate. 

“ Good, good ! ” says he, and when he an- 
nounced to ’em that Mis’ Hawkins would recite 
one of her own poims, they was all smilin’ and 
good-natered as I could ask. Them Bohemianers 
’peared for all the world jest like children. All 
they wanted was to be amused. 

Wall, I begun the poim (there was five verses) 
and went through from the fust line to the last 
without a single mistake. Here is the poitry, as 
I composed it, and as I said it off to ’em that 
night : 


48 MB, AND MBS, HANNIBAL HAWKINS, 


OuB Car’line. 

She may be hamsome, our Car’line, 

Of that I won’t pertend to say ; 

I only know she’s sweeter, brighter 
Than pinks and roses, any day ! 

She’s neither short nor tall, our Car’line, 

Her hair is yellower than gold. 

And fruzzles all around her forrid 

Like some sweet pictered saint of old ! 

And two sech eyes she has, our Car’line, 
Beseechin’, tender, sober, true — 

Until she smiles, and then you wonder 
Whether the rogue ain’t foolin’ you ? 

Her voice so sweet and clear, our Car’line, 

Her motion’s graceful as a bird’s — 

Here’s Car’line nigh as I can git her ; 

I only fail for lack o’ words ! 

Sixteen years old — a child — our Car’line, 

Let not the world that lays beyond 

E’er spile or mar, or make her sutfer, 

Our Car’line, that we love so fond ! 

When I got done they all praised me, and 
Cousin Landsdown took my hand in both his’n 
and squeezed it, and says he : 

“ By my faith ! fair cousin, you have true po- 
itry in your soul ! I wish we might keep you in 
Bohemy ; you would be an honor to our gild.” 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 49 


“ I’m ’bleeged to ye, I’m sure,” says I, “ but I 
guess I’m more fit for Punkinville than for Bo- 
bemy,” and I couldn’t help blusbin’ to think of 
myself in one o’ them ere decollity dresses ! 

“ Not but what I like you all real well,” I con- 
tinnered, ‘‘ and I’m sure no folks could be better 
edicated nor better natered, and I dew feel hon- 
ored and ’bleeged,” says I, ag’in, bowin’ fust to 
Cousin Landsdown and then right and left all 
round the table. 

At this juncter Hannibal riz up and bowed tew, 
layin’ his hand on his heart and lookin’ awful 
grand and imposin’. 

“ Allow me ter jine in my wife’s sentiments,” 
he said ; “ and now, as we can’t stay forever, if 
you’ll excuse us, I guess we’ll hafter take our 
leaves. We didn’t git much rest on the boat last 
night, and we feel pretty well tuckered out.” 
Then he made another bow, and I made a ker- 
chey, and lockin’ arms we perceeded to go. 

\^en we got along to where Blossom set at the 
table, she ketched hold of my hand and pulled 
me down to her. 

“Will you tell me all about little Car’line in 
the mornin’ ? ” she whispered. 

“ Yes, dear, yes, I will,” said I, and I stooped 
and kissed her, resolvin’ in my own mind that I’d 
have her come to Punkinville, and let Car’line 
larn her to be happy in more nateral and inner- 
cent ways. 


CHAPTEE IV. 


AT THE PLAY “ CAMILLE.” 

The next mornin’ after the party Cousin Lands- 
down’s wife was sick abed. I nussed her up for 
a day or two, thinkin’ it wa’n’t nothin’ more’n a 
sudden cold, the nateral result of wearin’ that 
‘‘decollity ” dress, but she grew wuss and finally it 
turned into a kind of slow fever. 

I offered to stay and take care on her, but they 
wouldn’t hear to sp’ilin’ our bridle toor that way. 
So Cousin Landsdown took us to a nice hotel 
and we settled down for a week of sight-seein’. 

I couldn’t begin to tell all the strange sights we 
see, nor the experiences we underwent while we 
was in New York. Why, if we’d a-stayed till this 
time, I hain’t a doubt but what we could a kep’ on 
goin’ and experiencin’ and seein’, and somethin’ 
new every day ! There don’t seem to be no end 
to nothin’ in New York, exceptin’ the money. 
Hannibal said how he calkerlated he spent more 
money there in one week’s time than he would in 
a hull year to home in Punkinville. “ But then,” 
said he, “ I don’t care ; ’tain’t every day we go on 
a bridle toor.” 






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MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 51 


We went to some few places that we wouldn’t 
hardly thought we would. But folks dew things 
when they’re on a toor that they wouldn’t no 
other time, I guess. We did, anyway. For in- 
stance, we went to the theater — yes, we went, and 
I ain’t sorry for ’t nor ’shamed to own it. I’m free 
to confess that I think I’ve committed more sin 
and got more evil ’fore now to a sewin’ circle, 
than what I did that night to the theater. We 
was told afterwards that the play we see was a 
French play, and considered by some immoral, 
and I was thankful I didn’t know it ’fore I went, 
for then I should ’a’ been lookin’ for somethin’ 
bad, and so proba’ly found it. “ Hony swarky molly 
ponts/' you know, which is French, and means if 
a person is always looking out for evil, he’ll be 
pretty sure to find it wherever he goes, no mat- 
ter if it’s to a prayer-meetin’. 

What put it into our heads to go to the theater 
in the fust place, was a pictur’ we see in a store 
winder. It was right near the hotel where we 
boarded, and we’d passed it a good many times 
without noticin’ it partick’lar, till one day as we 
was goin’ along, all of a suddin it seemed to 
’tract our ’tention, and we stopped to look at it 
more careful. It was the pictur’ of a beautiful 
young lady, dressed up very peculiar. I hadn’t 
never seen anything like it to home in the Holler 
nor in Punkinville. She had on a white gownd 
with a terrible long trail tew it — wall, I should 
say that without stretchin’ it a mite, it would 


52 ME. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


reach clear from the top to the bottom of our 
front stairs, and it hadn’t no waist to speak on> 
only a great bokay as big as a wash-dish, pinned 
on in front, and not the sign of a sleeve — nothin’, 
not even a linen cuff! But she was awful han- 
some, or would a’ been if she’d been dressed like 
other folks. 

“ Aint she pretty ? ” says I to Hannibal. 
“ Let’s go and see her act ; come I ” 

I expected nothin’ but what Hannibal would be 
all took a-backwards, but he wa’n’t. (You see, 
he’d been thinkin’ on’t himself afore I spoke.) 
So he only looked kinder sheepish,^ and says he, 
“ What do you s’pose the folks up home would 
say if we should go ? Turn us out o’ the meetin’- 
house, fur’s I know.” 

“ Fudge I ” says I ; “as if we aint old enough to 
judge for ourselves and go where we’re a min’ 
ter ! Besides, we ain’t obleeged to tell.” 

I looked up into Hannibal’s face as coaxin’ as I 
knew how, and I see he was yieldin’ a’ready. It 
ain’t very hard to lead a man when he’s headed 
the way you want him to go, is it ? A good deal 
depends on how he’s headed, I find. 

Hannibal made quite a show of hangin’ off, but 
bimeby he says, “ Oh, wall, I guess we shall haf- 
ter go, if you’re set on’t. I’m willin’ to indulge ye, 
reasonable, Euth Ann, and, as I’ve said afore, we 
don’t go on a bridle toor every day.” 

He looked so beneverlent and self-sacrifisin’ 
that I ’most wanted to laugh, but I didn’t; I 


MB, AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 53 


only squeezed his arm and told him how good he 
was. 

And so we went. "VVe hadn’t nary one on us 
ever been to anything o’ the kind, and of course 
didn’t know what we should see or experience 
when we got there. 

Now I ain’t exackly what you’d call romancial, 
perhaps, but I have the faculty or failin’ of bein’ 
more ’n common ’fected by what I see and hear. 
I’m dretful apt to be carried away, as it were — to 
go off into dreams and feelin’s that might seem 
queer and foolish to some. And, ’cordin’ly that 
theater imprested me wonderful. I can’t begin 
to tell you how the beauty and the richness and 
the novelty on ’t affected me ! The paintin’s on 
the walls — cherubs and angels and flowers, as nat- 
ural as life ; the soft carpits, and seats easy as any 
sofy to set on, with the gas-lights shimmerin’ down 
over it all, through colored drops, like so many 
great glowin’ jewels — oh, it was beautiful ! And as 
I set there takin’ it all in, the music begun to 
play kinder sweet and low and wavy, and I fell to 
dreamin’. I dunno what I dremp’, nor how to 
put it into words, but all to once the hull world 
seemed full and runnin’ over of light and beau- 
ty and music! The men and women round me 
seemed noble and grand, and everything — jest 
as they do in poetry books, you know. And 
love — oh, love was everywheres! Not the com- 
mon every-day sort o’ love, but different sweet 
and dear, like heaven, I guess. That’s the way 


64 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


it seemed to me, and when the music begun to 
swell gradewally louder ’n louder, my heart 
swelled with it tew, throbbin’ and throbbin’ with 
a feelin’ of sech bliss — or misery, I couldn’t for 
the life o’ me say which — that I believe I might 
a died then and there, and never knowed it ! 

In p’int of fact I s’pose I must ’a’ felt faint, and 
perhaps leaned a grain heavy ag’inst the lady that 
set next to me, for I was brought down to a 
realizin’ sense by her holdin’ somethin’ towards 
me and sayin’, “ Here, smell of this ; it will revive 
you.” 

I come tew and was all right in a minit ; but I 
took the thing she offered me, mechanical-like, 
and thanked her and put it to my nose. It was 
a queer - lookin’ thing as ever I see. It was 
made of glass, and shaped some like an ambrell 
when it ’s shet up, without the handle ; and it 
was ’bout a foot long, I should judge. It ’peared 
to be a kind of colone bottle, and when I smelt 
on ’t it revived me wonderful. It was powerful 
strong colone, that’s a fact. When I handed it 
back to the lady, she fished down into her pocket, 
and took out a little square lump of sugar, and 
droppin’ a few drops on to it, give it to me. “ Eat 
it,” she said ; “ it will do you good.” And I 
done so. If I hadn’t a-knowed it was colone out 
of a pocket-ambrell colone-bottle, I should most 
’a’ thought I was takin’ somethin’ stronger. 

I concluded them bottles was all the rage, for I 
see a number of ladies usin’ ’em durin’ the even- 


MB. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 65 


in’, and next day I spoke about it to a lady at the 
hotel where we boarded. She laughed. “ They 
get boozy on that colone out of them ere bottles,” 
she said ; ‘‘ drop it on to the lumps of sugar and 
take it so, till sometimes they get pretty well set 
up.” 

I couldn’t hardly believe it, but she declared it 
was the truth. I didn’t tell Hannibal. I couldn’t 
bear to have him think so poor of womankind ; 
and he jest married to a woman ! 

The musicianers that was makin’ the beautiful 
music I’ve spoke on, set down in front of the 
stage; there was a hull mess on ’em, and they 
seemed to be playin’ mostly on fiddles and horns ; 
all sizes they was. Some o’ the biggest fiddles 
was taller than a man, and the horns ranged all 
the way up from a tin whissle to a tromboon. 
But they did make noble music ! They played 
quite a while before the show begun, and when 
they wound up, oh, I never did hear anything 
like it I They all put in jest as tight as they 
could, and played faster’n faster, till you couldn’t 
see the fiddle bows move at all, nor tell where 
one toot of the horns left off and t’ other be- 
gun, and they finished up with a long onairthly 
crash, enough to wake the dead ! Then to cap 
all, what did them musicianers dew, but drop 
their instruments and scramble head-over-heels 
down in under the floor somewheres out o’ sight ! 
In less’n two minutes they’d all disappeared — 
gone — everyone on ’em, nobody knew where ! And 


56 MR. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


what’s more, they stayed there till it was time to 
play ag-’in ; then they popped up through the 
floor, one to a time like a jack out of a box, and 
set down to their music. I thought they desarved 
better treatment. Why couldn’t they ’a set above 
ground, like other folks, and seen the play, when 
they hadn’t nothin’ else to dew, instid o’ bein’ 
stived away under the floor ’mongst the cob- 
webs and spiders ! 

Now sence I’ve divulgated one mortify in’ se- 
cret in regard to the habits o’ my own sex, 
perhaps ’taint no more’n fair that I should 
tell what I found out about the men that same 
night. 

The play seemed to be divided into parts — 
“acts” they called ’em — and when they let the 
curtain down after the fust act, the musicianers 
struck up a lively tune and the men all over the 
house begun to git up and go out. I noticed 
they left their ladies behind, and I thought that 
was queer. Bimeby they come stragglin’ along 
in ag’in and set down. The next time the curtain 
dropped, they done the very same thing, and, as 
nigh’s I could calkerlate, ’bout the same indi- 
videwals went out. A young man that set jest 
beyend me was one, and half a dozen of us ladies 
had to stand up to let him pass. I see some look- 
in’ grumpy ’bout it, but I felt sorry for him. I 
thought how embarissed he must feel, and when 
he come along by me, I says, “ Young man, I hope 
you ain’t onwell ? ” He colored up red’s a beet, 


ME, AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 57 


but didn’t make no reply, and everybody that 
heerd me smiled. 

The lady settin’ beside o’ me whispered in my 
ear, and says she : “ These men go out to git a 
drink ; didn’t you know it ? ” 

“ No, I didn’t,” says I. “ Why, they’re as dry 
as a pack o’ school -boys, ain’t they ? I should 
think it would be a good plan to have a pail and 
a dipper and pass round the water, as they 
dew in the deestrick schools up home. Save 
routin’ us out of our seats so much.” 

The lady shrugged up her shoulders and 
laughed. “ ’Tain’t water they want,” says she, 

it’s somethin' stronger ! ” 

“ Oh, dear me ! You don’t say so ! ” says I. I 
was dumfoundered ! Hannibal seemed to feel 
kinder shamed on me. ‘‘ You might ’a knowed,” 
says he. ‘‘ It ain’t likely they’d have all these ere 
recesses for nothin’ ! ” 

When that young man come back to his seat I 
didn’t say a word, but I tried to let him know by 
my looks what I thought of sech dewin’s ! 

And now we come to the play. As I have al- 
ready remarked, it was a French play ; the name 
on’t, as nigh’s I can git it, was “ Cameel.” Cameel 
was a girl — the one we see in the pictur’, you 
know — and she seemed inclined to do about 
right, I thought, but things kinder worked ag’inst 
her. ’Cordin’ to her tell, she was all alone in 
the world, and her health was poor — ’peared to 


58 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 

be consumptive, though I must say she looked 
healthy enough in the pictur’, but I’m tellin’ how 
she ’peared in the play — and she was troubled 
with a terrible hackin’ cough. 

Now I wanter stop and say right here, that Dr. 
Smith's Cough Balsum will cure a cough ten times out 
o’ nine, and I know it ! And I made up my mind 
to tell Cameel about it when she got through that 
night. A cough orter be took in time. 

Cameel was so’s to be about, of course, and no- 
body seemed to realize her condition. She was 
waited on by a number of young men, but she 
didn’t really love but jest one. His name was 
“Armawn,” and he set his eyes by her — it did 
beat all how he ’peared to love her ! 

It was real interestin’ to see ’em together. She 
was kinder pert and sassy at times, but she 
seemed to know jest how fur to go, and jest how 
much show of ’fection he could stan’ to once. I 
thought there was a good deal in that, and I de- 
tarmined to bear it in mind hereafter in respeck to 
Hannibal. But la ! it don’t seem as if any two 
folks ever did love one ’nother jest like them two ! 
And they acted it all out beautiful and free ; 
wa’n’t the least mite bashful nor awk’ard ’bout it. 
’T ain’t so up our way. The young men go round 
kinder sheepish and sly; seem to think makin’ 
love to a girl is some kind of a illegitermit busi- 
ness — somethin’ to feel a little ashamed on. As 
if a good honest affection wa’n’t the noblest sen- 
timent of the human heart 1 


MB. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 59 


Cameel seemed to have consider’ble company, 
both men and women. I didn’t exactly like the 
’pearance of some on ’em. They was good, likely 
folks, fur ’s I know, but altogether different from 
what I’d been used to. I took it they was French, 
and though I could see they done their best to 
speak plain, I couldn’t understand more’n half 
they said. 

But to go on with the story. It seemed that 
this Armawn belonged to an awful high-toned, 
big-feelin’ family, and his sister was engaged to 
be married to the son of another family jest as 
grand, and when they heerd that Armawn was 
thinkin’ of marryin’ Cameel, who wa’n’t high- 
borned no time, and had even done sech a thing 
as to work for a livin’, they was all crushed to 
the earth, and^Armawn’s father detarmined that 
somethin’ must be done to once. 

He knew well enough that Armawn wouldn’t 
give up Cameel of his own accord, so what does 
he dew but go to her and tell her jest how things 
stood; how his daughter’s intended refused to 
marry into a family that had sech a disgrace in 
prospeck, how his daughter’s heart would be 
broke, and his own gray hairs brought in sorrer 
to the grave. As for Armawn, he said it was only 
Cameel’s beauty that he loved ; she wa’n’t his 
equil in nothin’, and when her fust wrinkle come, 
he would realize the sacerfise he had made, and 
would hate and dispise her ever after. Finally, 
he ’pealed to her in a very feelin’ way — feelin’ for 


60 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


himself and everybody else but her — to give up 
Armawn for good and all. 

Cameel bore it pretty well till he spoke about 
her beauty and the wrinkle. That seemed to 
break her all up ; and oh ! how she did cough ! 
I guess for a minute the old gentleman thought 
whutlier no he hadn’t gone too fur, and felt kinder 
scairt, for he led her to a chair and made her set 
down, and brought her a drink o’ water. 

Then, as well as she could, between coughin’ 
and cryin’, Cameel told him how poor her health 
was, and that she couldn’t live long anyway, and 
begged on him to ’low her the blessin’ of Ar- 
mawn’s love what little time she had to live i she 
even went down on her knees to him, and a pitiful 
sight it was to see her there, sobbin’ and cough- 
in’, her i3retty white dress lay in’ round her on 
the floor — but it wa’n’t no kind o’ use ! The old 
he’thin begun ag’in, and kep’ at her, till he actew- 
ally convinced her that she couldn’t secure Ar- 
mawn’s well-bein’ and his daughter’s, and his’n, 
and everybody’s else but her own, unless she give 
him up wholly and etarnally. And, to make a thur- 
rer job on’t, he wanted her to lie, and tell Armawn 
that she didn’t love him any more, she loved 
somebody else. And finally the poor girl, more 
dead than alive, promised everything he wanted. 

Oh, that ’ere interview between them two was 
awful ’fectin’ and no mistake ! I had all I could 
do to set still in my seat and not interfere, though 
it’s ag’inst my principles as a gineral thing to 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 61 

meddle in other folks’s family affairs. But I did 
feel for Cameel ! And I wa’n’t the only one ! A 
good many shed tears, and some resorted ter sub- 
terfuges sech as coughin’ and blowin’ their noses 
violent. I cried, and I ain’t ashamed ter own it. 
So did Hannibal, and I was proud on him. 

Wall, the upshot on ’t was, that the next time 
Armawn come, Cameel done as she had promised, 
though I could see that it was like pullin’ eye- 
teeth, and Armawn went off farin’ mad and left 
her. But the sacerfise proved to be too much for 
Cameel ! She went right into a gallopin’ con- 
sumption, pined all away to skin and bones, and 
finally died there on the stage ! But she died in 
Armawn’s arms ! You see, jest at the last, the 
old gentleman relented. I s’pose he’d got his 
daughter comfortably married, and he proba’ly 
knew that Cameel was dyin’ — anyhow, he told 
Armawn the hull story ; how nobly Cameel had 
lied to him and everything, and they come to- 
gether ag’in and might ’a’ been happy, but it was 
too late ! As I said, she died in Armawn’s arms ; 
which was better’n nothin’, but I declare it did 
seem as if I couldn’t let her die so ! 

“ Oh,” says I to the lady beside on me, “ oh, if 
Cameel could only ’a’ had that cough medicine 
before the disease got fairly seated — if she only 
could ! ” 

“ What dew you mean ? ” says the lady, starin’. 
‘‘ It’s only a play, you know.” 

‘‘ You needn’t tell me ! ” says I. “ If that girl 


62 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 

ain’t dead, slie’s in the very last stages ! I knew 
the minute she was struck with death ! I’ve got 
eyes ! ” 

But she insisted on’t Cameel was all right, and 
she said perhaps we would feel better if Hanni- 
bal should go round behind the curtain and see 
her. She said a good many gentlemen done so, 
and it was considered perfeckly proper. I was 
glad enough to have Hannibal go, and he said if 
she wa’n’t too fur gone he’d certainly tell her 
about the cough balsum. 

In a few minutes back he come, chirk and 
smilin’, and carryin’ a little bokay in his hand. 
He said Cameel was alive and bloomin’ as a rosy ; 
that he found her laughin’ and carryin’ on with a 
lot of young men, but when he told her how his 
wife was worried about her, and had sent him to 
inquire after her health, she sobered down and 
looked for a minute as if she was goin’ to cry or 
somethin’, then she hands him the little bokay 
and says, real sweet : 

“ Give your wife these flowers with my grateful 
compliments, and tell her I was never sick a day 
in my life.” 

And Hannibal said she did look the pictur’ of 
health. But I can’t help thinkin’ there might be 
sech a thing as carryin’ these ere dyin’ plays too 
fur. 



CHAPTER V. 
cak’line. 

We was in New York about ten days in all, and 
we enjoyed every minate of it. No new married 
couple ever had a pleasanter bridle toor than 
what we did. But we was glad to go home, after 
all, and Hannibal says to me : 

“ Ruth Ann, it’s well eijough to go away once 
in a while on a bridle toor or so, but for a stiddy 
thing, give me home ; ” and I ’greed with him. 

My home was to be in Punkinville now, instid 
o’ Craney Holler, but the little country towns in 
New England are pretty much alike, and I knew 
about what to expect. One thing, I lotted on 
havin’ Car’line. From what I’d seen of her, I 
judged there wa’n’t a more lovable girl nor a 
better girl in the world, and I’d took her to my 
heart a’ready, and, bless her! she’d took me to 
hern, too ! 

By the time we got home from our bridle toor 
her bangs had growed out all right ; leastways, 


64 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


I didn’t see nothin’ the matter of ’em. But I 
don’t know who could find fault with her bangs 
or anything else about Car’line when once she 
stood afore ’em ! 

I described her as well’s I could in the poim 
I read to them Bohemianers that night at the 
party, so perhaps it ain’t wuth while to say any 
more here. 

Car’line seemed like a child, and she was a 
child — only sixteen, goin’ on seventeen — but 
she’d had plenty of beaux a’ready ’cordin’ to her 
par’s tell ; and jest afore we was married he says 
to me, dretful anxious and downhearted : 

“ Euth Ann, I’m ’fraid Car’line ’ll be a great 
care to you — or ruther, the fellers will, that’s al- 
wers hangin’ round her. The dum’ gumps ! ” 

“ Hannibal, now don’t you worry,” I answers ; 
“ I’ll resk ’em. They can’t be no wuss’n meazles 
and ’hoopin’ cough and all thein other diseazes I 
should had to contend with if she was younger, 
I’m heartily thankful she’s got through with 
them, but as for beaux — la ! a young girl without 
beaux would be a mounstrosity ! ” says I. 

“ Oh, wall, Car’line ain’t much of a mounstros- 
ity, I take it,” says Hannibal, drawin’ himself up. 
(He’s awful proud of Car’line, you know.) 

Before I say any more about Car’line, I must 
stop right here and relate the trunk eppersode, 
because it is connected intimit with her hist’ry. 

When Hannibal and me come home from our 
weddin’ toor, his trunk got changed somehow. 



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MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 65 


Mine was mine all right, but his’n was some- 
body’s else. He and the depo-master couldn’t 
make nothin’ satisfactory out between ’em, only 
that the strange trunk had follered mine from 
New York ; and there wa’n’t no name nor any 
way to tell who it belonged to, nor where he 
lived — nothin’ except the initials E. I. G. in big 
letters. 

We concluded it was a swap, and E. I. G., who- 
ever he was, had got Hannibal’s trunk, with his 
name and address tacked onto it in plain letters, 
and we naterally supposed he’d know enough to 
write and have the thing fixed proper. But we 
waited a week or two without bearin’ a word, and 
we begun to think we never should; so, come 
Saturday night, Mr. Hawkins fitted a key to the 
trunk, and says to me and Car’line : 

“ Come, let’s go’n open Mr. E. I. G.’s trunk.” 

Did you ever open a trunk that belonged to an 
unknown individewal ? A trunk whose contents 
you knew nothin’ about, absolutely, whuther 
male or female, rags, or silks and satings, dyner- 
mite or sassages ? 

I tell you I never experienced a queerer sensa- 
tion than what I did settin’ there on that ere 
trunk tryin’ to spunk up courage to let Hannibal 
open it. And Car’line felt jest as narvous about 
it as I did. 

But much as we hung back, we was dyin’ to 
know what was in it, and so finally we said: 

Open it,” though we both felt afeared we might 


66 MR, AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 

be blowed to atoms the next minute. Sech is 
woman’s curiosity ! (Not but what Hannibal was 
every mite and grain as curious as we was, you 
know.) 

Wall, he put in the key, give it a turn, and 
lifted the led. We . all hild our breaths and 
looked, and I know I couldn’t a felt fainter if I’d 
seen E>. 1. G. himself laid out there in that top 
tray in his grave clo’es ! 

But massy sakes ! there wa’n’t nothin’ in the 
world there to hurt anybody ! Only a pile o’ 
clean b’iled shirts, all done up spick and span, 
and glistenin’ white as snow ! We took ’em out 
and found underneath a complete outfit of men’s 
clo’es, the nicest and nobbiest we ever set eyes 
on. Mr. Eig — as we concluded to call him— who- 
ever he was, had good clo’es and plenty of ’em. 

There was other things besides clo’es in tho 
trunk, things we didn’t know the name nor the 
use of. What ’tracted Car’line’s ’tention in par- 
tik’lar was a red luther box full of queer little 
tools. Some was iv’ry and some was steel, but 
they all looked too small and dainty for a man 
to work with. 

Car’line showed ’em to me and blushed and 
laughed. 

“ He must a’meant ’em for a present to his girl,” 
says she. “ See, her name is on the kiver.” And 
sure enough there it was in gilt letters, Mani- 
cured 

“Too bad she can’t have her present,” says. 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 67 


Car’line ; “ if we only knew what’s her other 
name, and where she lives, we could send ’em to 
^ her, and find out about Mr. Kig.” 

“ I s’pose that’s jest her given name.” She 
said it over kinder soft to herself. “ Manicure, 
Manicure, pretty name, ain’t it, mar ? ” says she. 

Wall, them clo’es was all too small for Hanni- 
bal, and too young-lookin’. They everdently be- 
longed to some rich city chap, for there wa’n’t no 
paper collars, nor overhalls, nor checkered shirts. 
Everything was costly and reg’lar go-to-meetin’ 
style, ye know. 

Car’line thought they was all too cute for any- 
thing. “ Oh, my! ” says she, holdin’ up a laven- 
dar kid glove and a little patent luther boot, 
“ wouldn’t the Punkinville boys stare to see Mr. 
Rig with these on ? ” 

As there didn’t seem to be anything else to do, 
we put the trunk away in the spare chamber and 
left it. Hannibal said he reckoned he’d got the 
best on’t, even if he couldn’t wear the clo’es, for 
he didn’t vally his own trunk so great, there 
wa’n’t much in it. And he said Car’line should 
have Mr. Rig’s things for a weddin’ present to 
her husband, if she’d only git a feller to fit ’em. 

Car’line was crazy to have a pianner. She run 
of a notion that she could learn to play on one 
real easy. She’d picked out a few tunes a’ready 
on one o’ the neighbor’s seraphims, and now she 
wanted a pianner of her own. So her par he 


68 MR. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


come to me private and asked me what I thought, 
and whuther no I would proba’ly play on it any 
myself if we had one. 

“ Me play on a planner ! ” says I. “No Hanni- 
bal, I’m ’bleeged to ye ! ” Once when I was a 
girl I was stoppin’ down country with Aunt Har- 
ri’t, and she coaxed me into takin’ some lessons. 
I begun and took jest three, but that was a plenty. 
I remember to this day how I felt settin’ there 
histed up onto that stool afore that instrument ! 
Half an hour to a time, four times a day I set 
there, with nothin’ to occerpy me but jest put- 
tin’ down and takin’ up fust one finger, then 
t’other, on them inanimated iv’rys ! ^hat tort- 
ure I suffered ! How my fingers ached, and 
how my back and head ached ! And how at 
the end of them two hours I tried to think 
I’d ’complished somethin’, when I knew all the 
time I hadn’t! How I looked for’ards and s^ 
nothin’ but the same eternal misery, and how 
discouraged and miser’ble I was ! I stood it 
three weeks and then I went to Aunt Harri’t, and 
says I : 

“ Aunt Harri’t, I’ve come to the conclusion that 
if I must play on somethin’. I’ll git me a hand- 
orgin. I can turn a crank as well as anybody, 
but I can’t learn to play the planner I ” And I 
couldn’t. 

When I see girls practisin’ from two to four 
hours a day, I wonder what they’re made on. 
They must be constitooted altogether different 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS, 69 


from what I be ; in p’int of fact I know they are. 
And Car’line was. 

Why I’ve seen her set down to the planner as 
eag'er as she would to a good meal o’ vittles when 
she was hungry, and touch the keys as lovin’ and 
caressin’ as if they was somethin’ dear and pre- 
cious. And all the time she played she’d have 
a sorter wropped-up, onairthly look on her face 
that almost scairt me. It wa’n’t her fingers that 
played, it was somethin’ inside of her. It was 
genyus ; and a genyus for anything, I don’t care 
what, makes the labor of dewin’ on’t light. 

But if a child hain’t no nateral hankering after 
music — ^no genyus for it — ^I say it’s cruelty to ani- 
mals to tie him down to a planner or a fiddle, 
and it’s sure to ruin his disposition, if it don’t the 
spine of his back. 

Now, why not let him do somethin’ that will 
give bim solid comfort, instead o’ torture ? Per- 
haps he can draw, or paint picters, or, better still, 
work with tools — like carpenterin’ or so— if he’s a 
boy. If he can’t do nothin’ but saw wood and 
hoe pertaters, if he loves it, in the name of hu- 
manity let him do it, and feel the bliss of doin’ 
somethin’ well. 

In my ’pinion there’s two things in partick’lar 
that nobody should ever undertake to do, unless 
they can’t possibly help it, viz., namely: to write 
poitry and play music. So now, when Car’line 
begun to talk planner I says to her : 

“ Child, do you love music better’n you love to 


70 MB. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


eat ? ” and she answers, all eager and trembly, 

Yes, mar, I believe I do,” and I says, “ All right, 
you shall have a planner.” And then I perposed 
that we take a boarder for the summer and so 
help earn it. We hadn’t work enough to hurt 
ary one of us, and the house was plenty big to 
’commodate another. 

Car’line seemed pleased with the idee, but 
her par put it down at fust. Said how he ‘‘ wa’n’t 
goin’ to have his wimmin folks takin’ in work,” 
and so on, but bimeby he give in, and we adver- 
tised in a New York paper. , 

We had a good many letters from different 
folks, and among ’em was one from a young man 
who signed his name Kichard Gordon. We 
thought it might be as well to take him as any- 
body, so he come. He was a harnsome, fine 
’pearin’ young man as one could Avish to see, 
and he had a way with him that told us to once 
that he hadn’t never been used to plain country 
livin’ before. He didn’t seem to feel big, ex- 
actly, but he was different from the rest on us, 
ye know. He said how he was an orphan, and 
that drawed me to him ; but when he said he’d 
been dissipatiil a little too much and his physi- 
cian recommended a quiet life for a while, I felt 
like death. 

‘‘ Oh, dear ! ” thinks I, “ what an example for 
Hannibal.” I felt sorry for the young man, too, 
and I says real kind : 

‘‘ Mister Gordon, I hope you’ll find Punkinville 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 71 


a good place to reform in. If you’ll go to the tem- 
perance meetin’s and sign the pledge, we’ll ’sist 
and help you all we can. Only you must be in 
’arnest yourself, and fight and wrastle aginst 
your appetite. But we’ll ’sist you,” says I, we’ll 
’sist you, depend on’t.” 

He smiled at this, and says he : 

“ Dear Mrs. Hawkins, your sympathy and ’sis- 
tance would be received most grateful indeed, 
but you slightly misunderstand my meanin’. My 
‘ dissipation ’ has only been in goin’ to too many 
balls and parties, and that sort of thing. My 
habits in respeck to drinkin’ is all right, I assure 
you.” 

And I guess he spoke the truth, for he hain’t 
never drinked a drop to my knowledge ; but I felt 
relieved to hear him say it, and told him so, and 
we was the best of friends to once. After that I 
found out all about him by writing to Hannibal’s 
cousin Landsdown, that lives in Bohemy, New 
York, you remember. 

But about that pianner. You know we was go- 
in’ to help buy it with the board money. Well, 
we never jjaid a cent towards it, for the very day 
pur boarder ’rived, ’long come the pianner, too ! 
Mr. Hawkins done it to surprise us, and surprised 
enough we was. And it did beat all how fast 
Car’line learned to play. It wa’n’t but a few 
weeks ’fore she could play the Moody and Sankey 
pieces in No. 1 and 2, and the fust time she sung 
and played of a Sunday night to her par, he 


72 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


wiped his eyes and said “ he reckoned the pian- 
ner was all paid for.” 

Car’line’s voice wa’n’t powerful, but it was per- 
suadin’ as an ang-el’s. Let anybody, I don’t care 
who ’tis, nor what he believes, hear our Car ’line 
sing*, “ I Need Thee Every Hour,” and he will feel 
a longin’ in his soul, a reachin’ out after God, if 
he never did before. 

I think it was Car’line’s singin’ more’n her 
beauty that made Mr. Gordon fall in love with 
her. Anyway, he took to her at <fust, though we 
didn’t think of sech a thing as love between ’em 
— strange we didn’t, too. But it was quite a while 
before I begun to realize how things was goin’ on. 

He stayed all summer and ’long into the 
fall, and by that time all Punkinville knew what 
he was up to. He’d giv’ Car’line a ring for a fili- 
peen present, and asked her if she would wear a 
diamond one bimeby. 

“ Jest think, mar,” says Car’line, when she told 
me, “ I shall have the fust di’mond ring in Pun- 
kinville ! ” 

(’Twa’n’t exactly like Car’line to say that, but I 
guess there’s consider’ble human natur’ in the 
best of girls ; there was in Car’line, anyway.) 

One day, Mr. Gordon went a-fishin’ and got 
ketched in a shower, and come home wet as a 
drownded rat. He said how he “ hadn’t got no 
more clo’es as thick as them he’d been wearing 
and he was afraid he might git cold changin’ from 


MB. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 73 


thick to thin,” and he didn’t know what to do. 
Car’line happened to think of that trunk, and says 
she: 

“ Mar, there’s jest the thing among them clo’es, 
and I should think Kichard and Mr. Eig might 
be about the same size.” 

She went and got the clo’es and carried ’em to 
Richard’s door, and pretty soon he come down 
with ’em on, and we exclaimed to once that they 
fitted him for all the world as if they’s made for 
him. 

He stood kinder queer and bewildered like be- 
fore the glass, and looked at himself. 

‘‘Where did you get these ere clo’es ?”^ he 
asked. And I told him in a trunk that come to 
us by mistake. “And,” says I, “there’s a lot 
more, and other things besides.” 

“ Let’s see ’em,” says he. So we took him into 
the spare chamber, and the minute he set eyes on 
the trunk he slaps his hand on his knee, and says : 

“ My trunk, by jove ! ” 

“Oh! is it!” screams Car’line. “Then you’re 
Mr. Rig I Mar, he’s Mr. Rig ! oh, dear, oh, dear ! ” 

“ Mr. Rig / ” he repeats over after her, lookin’ 
from one to t’other on us inquirin’. 

“ Why yes, don’t you see ? ” and Car’line pints 
to the letters R. I. G. “But what does the ‘I’ 
stand for ? ” she asks. 

Then he looked and laughed. “ R. I. G. — Rich- 
ard Ingram Gordon,” says he. “ That’s my name, 
of course. So I’m Mr. Rig, be I ? How droll ! ” 


74 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. ' 


You see we’d spoke of Mr. Rig time and ag’in, 
so the name was familiar to him as pea-soup. 

“How strange we never thought on’t before,” 
says Car’line. “ But where’s par’s trunk ? Have 
you got it, Richard ? ” 

“ No, I hain’t got nobody’s trunk. I lost this 
on my way from New York to the mountains last 
summer, and it made me no end of trouble. But 
here it is. Wall, wall! But the clo’es come real 
handy to-day, didn’t they ? ” 

He turned ’em over kinder careless, as if they 
wa’n’t of much vally to him. They was a year 
old now, and I s’pose he considered ’em all gone 
by and out of stile. 

When he come to the little luther box with 
Manicure’s name on it, he opened it and looked 
at the little tools, and finally carried it away to 
his room and set it on the table. 

Goin’ down-stairs Car’line says to me : 

“That ‘Manicure’ will get her present now, 
after all.” 

And I answers “ Yes,” but I didn’t think much 
about it. 

After this little eppersode happened, all to 
once Car’line seemed to change in her manners 
towards Richard Gordon. When he spoke to her 
she answered stiff and proper, instid of laughin’ 
and sassy as she used to, and she kep’ out of his 
way all she possibly could. 

He was terribly cut up; didn’t know what to 
make on’t of course, and hung round, tryin’ to git 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 75 


a word with her alone, but she wouldn’t give him 
no chance. It was so for a hull week, till I s’pose 
he couldn’t stan’ it no longer, for, come Sunday 
mornin’, he speaks right up at the breakfast-table 
’fore all of us and says : 

“ Miss Car’line, will you walk to church with 
me this mornin’ ? ” 

Car’line looked at him for a minute, kinder half 
defyin’, half cryin’, but somethin’ compelled her 
appearently, for she answered so low and trembly 
you couldn’t hardly hear. 

‘‘ Yes — I dunno’ but what I will,” then run off up- 
stairs fast as she could go. 

I suspicioned at the time that they would come 
to an understandin’ with one another on the way 
to meetin’, and they did. Car’line told me all 
about it that night. She alwers confides in me 
as if we’s two girls together, bless her heart ! 

It seems they took the cross-road through the 
woods. It was a good deal further, but they 
didn’t care, they had plenty of time. 

They walked along quite a piece without 
speakin’, and pretty soon Eichard took hold of 
Car’line’s hand and lifted it up and looked at it. 

“ Car’line,” says he, “ where’s the little ring I 
gave you ? Have you lost it ? ” (She had on 
mitts — ginerally wore ’em in hot weather.) 

She snatched away her hand, and, says she : 
‘‘ No, I hain’t lost it, but I ain’t goin’ to wear it 
any more — never! You may have it to give to 
Manicure / ” 


76 MB. AMD MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


To give to who ? ” he asks, stoppin’ still in 
the road, and lookin’ at her with his mouth wide 
open. “ To give to who ? ” 

“Why, to that other girl. You know better’n 
I do, and you needn’t pertend to look so inner- 
cent!” says Car’line, real hystericky. “I do 
hate and despise a cheat — so there ! ” says she. 

“ A cheat ! Car’line, who’s a cheat ? ” he asks, 
dretful stern. “ Hain’t I paid my board bills — 
hain’t I paid all my bills ? Who’s been lyin’ 
round about me, I’d like to Know ? ” 

Car’line laughed bitter. “You men think as 
long as you pay your board and store bills you’re 
all right,” she said. “ You forgit that you owe 
somethin’ to girls’ hearts and feelin’s.” 

“ Car’line ! Car’line ! what do you mean ? ” he 
said, droppin’ onto a big rock and pullin’ her down 
side of him. She kivered her face with her 
hands and hitched away from him, but he drawed 
her up close and took down her hands and held 
’em tight in his’n. 

“ Now, Car’line,” he says, lovin’ but firm, “ you 
tell me what I’ve done ! ” 

She dropped her head and blushed furious. 
“ ft’s — it’s that other girl — Manicure,” she says. 

“ Manicure, Manicure,” repeats Eichard, lookin’ 
wild. 

“ Yes ! you know who I mean. Her name is on 
the box you’re keepin’ for her. Oh, Eichard, who 
is she, and where is she ? Tell me ! ” 

Then he hollered and laughed as if he’d die. 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 77 

“ Oh., Car’line, Car’line ! ” says he bimeby, when 
he got so he conld speak. “ What a dear little 
ignorant goose you be!” and he hugged and 
kissed her over ’n’ over as if he was crazy ; and 
Car’line, half mad, half ashamed, had to submit 
whuther no. But when he stops at last to git his 
breath, she begins agin, poutin’ : 

“ Who is she, Eichard ? Who is Manicure ? I 
will know 1 ” 

Then he tells her all about it, and says she 
shall have the box, and he will show her how to 



use the little tools, though her fingers are pretty 
enough without any manicuring, and he kisses 
them again and again to prove he means it. And 
when Car’line finds out what a silly blunder it all 
is, she hides her face and feels wuss’n ever, and 
cries, and asks Eichard if he ain’t ashamed of 
lovin’ sech a silly little gump. 

And he tells her how he ain’t, how he thinks 
' she’s jest right as she is in every single respeck 
but one. He’d like to change her name to his’n 
. — Hawkins to Gordon — right away, if she is 
willin’. 

Then they both laugh and feel better, and there 


78 MB. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS, 


they set and talk and talk, till the last bell begins 
to ring, then they go sarnterin’ along the fields 
to meetin’. 

And the fields was paradise, and the chnreh 
was heaven to them two that day, because they 
was together! But you know and I know how 
everything seemed to ’em ; so what’s the use of 
my sayin’ any more ! 


CHAPTEE VI. 


MAJOR HAWKINS’S “REGIMENT.” 

I’ve noticed that men-folks are dretful apt to 
git out o’ kilter once in a while ; in their healths, 
I mean, now. It was so with Hannibal, any- 
way. 

As sure as business slacked up a little, he’d be- 
gin to complain of not feelin’ well. Sometimes it 
was one thing, sometimes another, but the spring 
after we was married he got the idee into his 
head that he was dyspeptick. He wa’n’t — he was 
hearty as a bear — but I had to humor him and 
putter and fuss over him all the same. 

I cooked all sorts o’ sickly dishes, oatmeal, 
rolled oats and cracked wheat — wall, every kind 
of a mush you could name — and then we tackled 
the coffy. He thought he was bilyus, and so he 
must do somethin’ about his coffy. He was awful 
fond of it, and I don’t think he ever had any real 
notion of givin’ it up, but we begun to perform 
all the different operations onto it. We powdered 
it, filtered it, and steeped it cold and hot, we tried 
coffy of the male sect, and finally resorted to sub- 
terfuges and made coffy of everything in natur’ 


80 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


but cofify. We tried barley, dandy lion, and 
brown bread ; then he drank coco’ a spell, then 
shells, but none of ’em seemed jest the thing. 
At last Hannibal brought home a bottle of 
“ Mooney’s Extrack,” and that come the nighest 
to fillin’ the bill of anything yet. That is, he , 
liked it the best, got attached tew it, so to speak, 
right off. 

But one mornin’ I happened to taste on’t, and 
I see in a minute jest how it was and all about 
it ! I set the tumbler down and looked at Han- 
nibal, and says to him, pretty severe, I tell you : 

Most as good as whiskey, ain’t it ? — and your 
wife president of the ‘ W. C. T. U. ! ’ Husband, 
I’m ashamed on ye ! ” 

“Hang it!” says he, dretful sheepish, “what 
shall I drink ? Hain’t we tried everything un- 
der the sun — everything but water ! And you 
wouldn’t condem’ me to drink plain water, would 
ye?” .... 

“Drink something that ain’t a deceit and a 
snare!” says I. “None of them other things 
hurt ye, nor the real coffy didn’t, nuther, and 
you’d know it if you wa’n’t a gump and a fool ! I 
knew it all the time,” says I. 

“ You did ! ” he says, kicking the leg of the 
table ; “ then why didn’t you say so, hey ? ” 

“Because you wouldn’t be satisfied till you’d 
fugled and fussed jest about so much; that’s 
why,” says I. 

Wall, next mornin’ he went back to the coffy, 


MB, AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 81 

common coffy, common gender and all, but he 
couldn’t give up his favorite idee of bein’ bilyus, 
and he got into the habit of lookin’ at his tongue 
forty times a day. No matter what he was dewin’, 
— readin’, carpenterin’, or what (for he was kinder 
repairin’ and dewin’ odd jobs round the house, see- 
in’ business at the mill was slack) — ^lie’d leave off, 
drop everything once in about so often, and go 
to the lookin’ -glass, run out his tongue as fur as 
he could, and stare and look at it a spell, and then 
shake his head with sech an expression of low 
sperits and misery on his countenants as made 
me and daughter Car’line both feel dismal enough. 
He was the queerest person about takin’ medi- 
cine that I ever see. The doctor left him a bottle 
of stuff and told him to take a teaspoonful three 
times a day, that was the dose ; but he seemed to 
arger if a small dose would help him, a bigger one 
would do him good in perportion. So he’d take a 
double dose reg’lar, and every few minutes all 
day long he’d go to the cubbard and take a s wal- 
ler or two besides. 

It was a wonder it didn’t kill him. But it 
didn’t, and it didn’t cure him nuther ; he contin- 
nered to lay round the house for a couple of 
weeks, and show all the symptims of hypo —it 
wa’n’t nothin’ else under the sun, mind ye — till 
finally he began to talk about soilin’ out the mill 
and settlin’ up his worldly affairs. Then I felt wor- 
ried in ’arnest, for though I was morilly sartin that 
nothin’ ailded him (his health, I mean), I knew 


82 MR. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


that he could die of oddity, if he so detarmined, 
and I was afraid he would. I didn’t know what 
to dew, but after ponderin’ over the matter, and 
prayin’ over it tew, I concluded to go and consult 
along with Doctor Bonder myself, private. So I 
goes to him and I says : 

“ Doctor, Major Hawkins ain’t sick more’n the 
cat, and you know it as well as I do, but some- 
thin’s got to be done. He’s got to have his fill 
of dosin’ and nussin’ ; that’s what he’s started in 
for, and that’s what he will have. Now I think if 
he should be told to do some dretful hard, disa- 
greeable things, plenty of ’em, and systematic, 
too, he’d imagine he was better right away, and 
in consequents he would be. What do you say, 
doctor ? What say to puttin’ him through a reg- 
lar course of treatment ? ” 

The old doctor laughed, but finally ’greed to it, 
and we laid our heads together and concocted up 
what the doctor called a “ regiment a sort of a 
program it ’peared to be; and it was labored 
and complicated enough to suit even old Cap’n 
Na’mun himself, that the Bible tells about, you 
know. Yes, I hain’t a doubt but what Hannibal’s 
“ regiment ” would ’a’ suited Na’mun to a T. I tell 
you, men want a fuss made when they’re sick, or 
when they think they be, which amounts to the 
same thing. Here’s the “ regiment ” in part ; we 
writ it all out on a big sheet of paper, so that 
Hannibal might be imprested with its importance. 
See? 


MB. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 83 


1 . “ Immejitly on risin’ in the mornin’, a cold 
shower-bath, plenty of water, follered by vigor- 
ous use of the flesh-brush. After the bath a 
horseback ride of not less than two mil’ds.” 

N.B. I orter tell you, perhaps, that Hannibal 
ain’t inclined to be very active naterally, and he 
hates baths of any kind, and horseback ridin’ too, 
like pizen. 

2. “Breakfast of oatmeal and stewed crambries, 
and a cup o’ strong sage-tea.” 

Before the doctor perscribed on the dinner, he 
asked me if there was any vittles the patient di- 
spised particklar, and I mentioned a few. 

3. “ Dinner : Stewed beans or biled codflsh. 
No meat allowed. 

4. “After dinner a nap of not less than one 
hour.” 

You see we knew well enough that he wouldn’t 
go to sleep nice and comfortable, but would 
prob’ly put in his time thrashin’ round and 
thin kin ’ what a mean dinner he’d had. 

5. “ Supper : Cold bread and crambry sauce.” 
(He dispised crambries !) 

6. “ After supper a walk of not less than one 
mil’d. 

7. “ A cold shower-bath before retirin’. 

8. “ After each meal, and on goin’ to bed, a 
tumblerful of thoro’wort-tea.” 

There was a lot more, but these was the main 
orders. 

When I enrolled the paper and showed it to 


84 : MR. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


Hannibal, and drawed down my face and told 
bim solium and serious that them ere was the 
doctor’s orders, he seemed mitily pleased. 

“ That looks sunthin’ like,” says he. “ Why, we 
hain’t never really done nothin’, never really 
tackled the disease before,” says he. 

“Wall, we’ll tackle it now in arnest,” says I. 

“ Yes,” he continers ; “ I’ve been satisfied in my 
own mind for a good while, that if I wanted to 
live I’d got to work for it, and work hard.” 

“Wall, Hannibal,” says I, iD’intin’ to the “re^t- 
ment^" “ here’s work enough, and hard work too.” 

To cut a long story short, he tended right to 
himself and obeyed them orders— /or jest three 
days — and it cured him! That is, he was so 
-much sicker of the treatment than he was of the 
disease, that it amounted to a cure, practically 
speakin’. 

On the evenin’ of the fourth day, when it come 
along time for him to take his walk, he begun to 
hang round me and ’pear uncommon ’fectionate. 
Finally he says, real nice and coaxin’ : 

“ Ruth Ann, don’t you wanter go to walk with 
me to-night ? Dew ; I feel as if I should like 
your comp’ny,” says he. 

“ I’m obleeged to ye, Hannibal, I’m sure,” I 
answers, real amiable, “but much as I should 
enjoy to go, I don’t see how I can. There’s the 
clo’es to sprinkle and the bread to set ; and be- 
sides, I don’t really feel to need the exercise.” 

He hove a terrible sigh and started off alone. 


MR, AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 85 

When he come back he begun bangin’ ’round 
ag’in, and when the clock struck nine, he looked 
up, and said he : 

“ I’ve a good min’ not to take that ere blarsted 
shower-bath to-night ; I’ll drink the yerb tea — 
but I hain’t much ’pinion o’ shower-baths, any 
ways. Euth Ann ? ” 

He looked at me awful questionin’, but I kep’ 
still and didn’t open my head. He waited a 
minute for me to speak, then he says, right out : 

“ What do you think, Ruth Ann ? ” 

“I think,” I answers, very imx)ressive like, 
‘‘ that if I was you, I should continuer to stick 
to the ‘ regiment ’ unabridged, till I was cured, if 
it killed me ! ” 

He didn’t seem to see nothin’ out o’ reason in 
my answer, but took it discouragin’, and his 
countenants fell. 

“ You would, would ye ? ” he grumbled. 

“ Yes ; in my ’pinion, when you feel that your 
disease is cured, then is the time to give up the 
treatment, not before,” said I, firm as a rock. 

He didn’t say no more, hut he didn't take the 
shower-hath. 

The next mornin’ he got up and went out to 
the barn and done his chores, and come back 
whis’lin’ gay as a young boy. It did my heart 
good to hear him. 

I was jest gettin’ out the spider to fry the ham 
and eggs for my breakfast and Car’line’s ; when I 
got ’em on the stove a dewin’ he come and stood 


86 MB. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS, 


beside o’ me, with, his hands under his coat-tails, 
and looked at ’em awful longin’. They did look 
good, that’s a fact, and they smelt good, too. 

‘‘ Kuth Ann,” said he, finally, tryin’ to speak 
unconsarned and ordinary, “ I guess you may 
put in a couple of eggs for me this mornin’. I’m 
feelin’ fust rate now, and am goin’ to eat what 
the rest of the family do. That ^ regimenV has 
fetched me right up — beats all, don’t it ? ” 

‘‘ Yes, it does,” said I, tickled enough to dance 
a hornpipe right there, for I knew he was cured ! 
And the best of it was, he staid cured ; whatever 
else he’s had for odd streaks sence, he hain’t 
never had no more dispepsy to this day. But I 
put the ‘‘ regiment ” away careful where I could 
clap my hand ontew it any time in case of need. 


f 


CHAPTEE yn. 


AUNT Betsey’s boudoie. 

When daughter Car’line was married, she had 
jest exactly one hundred and ninety -nine pres- 
ents, and after we’d counted ’em over and found 
how it was, her par laughed, and says he : 

‘‘ I guess we’d better make it an even two hun- 
derd,” and ’cordin’ly he went down to the store, 
and bought her a nice wooden choppin’ bowl ; 
it was a hamsome one, and a good one, made right 
out o’ the heart of a rock maple tree. Car’line 
seemed pleased enough with it, but afterward 
when her par wa’n’t round, she said to me, pri- 
vate, that “ like’s not she shouldn’t ever use it. 
She didn’t believe they e’t much hash in New 
York City ” (there’s where she was goin’ to to live, 
you know.) But she said how she could gild it 
over on the outside, and use it for a jardinnyair 
(which is the French for flower-pot), in her con- 
servatory, and it would be jest the thing. 

I couldn’t begin to tell you what the one hun- 
derd and ninety -nine presents was, but I’ll try to 
mention some on ’em. A good many wa’n’t ex- 
actly flt to go into a nice New York house, and a 


88 MB. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


rich man’s house at that (for Mister Gordon, her 
husband, was awful rich), though they’d do fust 
rate for Punkinville. 

Car’line knew how onsootable they was, and 
she laughed over more’n one of ’em, but she cried 
too, for tliey showed how much the folks set by 
her, and she knew what sackerfices a good many 
underwent in order to give ’em to her. 

The day before the weddin’, we spread ’em all 
out in the spare chamber, and took Richard in to 
see ’em. 

There was two pairs of white woollen stockin’s, 
with little short legs, sech as our gran’mothers 
used to wear ; they was from Aunt Sally Baker, 
she knit ’em herself. There was a number o’ 
drawed in rugs, enough to kiver our spare cham- 
ber floor ’bout over ; one of ’em w^as from Mis’ 
Deacon Baton, and had great purple roses on it. 
That was the harnsomest. 

Then there was a risin’ sun bed quilt pieced up 
out of red and yeller calico, from Square Bab- 
bitt’s wife, a hair wreath in an oval black- walnut 
frame, from Mis’ Bangs, with her own hair and 
Mister Bangses made into great big flowers in 
the middle, and the Bangs children’s hair in 
smaller flowers all around the outside. Car’line 
said how hair work was all “ gone by ; ” I was 
sorry, for I thought that wreath was ruther pretty 
and it must ’a’ been a sight of work to dew it. 
There was tidies, and chair kivers — oh, a master 
lot on ’em, and there was several painted picters. 


MB. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 89 


Now I ain’t much of a judge o’ sech things, and I 
should ’a’ said them picters looked middlin’ well ; 
but Eichard said he reckoned it wouldn’t be con- 
trary to Scriptur’ to worship ary one of ’em, be- 
cause they wa’n’t no likeness of anything in the 
airth or in the waters under the airth. But if not 
wicked, he ’lowed it would be mighty poor taste. 
That’s what he said any way. 

Serinthy Ann Gribbin, she give the cap sheaf 
of a picter. It was an ile paintin’ in a harnsome 
gilt frame, and repersented a brook with a moun- 
t’in set down beside on’t, and a large tree grow- 
in’ in a curi’s kind of a way, part out of the 
mount’in’ and part out of the water — ^it was terri- 
ble curi’s, but the branches hung down beauti- 
ful and green and looked refreshin’. There was 
a goose — I took her to be — sailin’ on the water, 
jest as nateral as life. When I spoke of the 
goose, Eichard and Car’line laughed, and said I 
“ mustn’t call it a goose, it laid out to be a swan ! ” 

I said “ I didn’t care what it laid out to be, it 
was a beautiful bird, anyway, and jest as nateral 
as life, as I said afore.” 

Serinthy Ann done the picter herself, and she 
never took a lesson in paintin’ in her life. Eich- 
ard said how it would be money throwed away 
if she should, which was a high compliment, 
wa’n’t it ? 

Speakin’ of picters, Car’line told me that Eich- 
ard’s folks had got one picter in their house that 
cost a thousand dollars. And I said it was a 


90 MR, AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


wicked, shameful waste of money. I declare ! 
If anybody but Car’line had told me sech a story 
I wouldn’t ’a’ believed ’em ! I didn’t s’pose there 
was a picter in the world that cost so much 
money ! Why ! you can g-it a good farm, good 
medder land, right here in Punkinville, for a 
thousand dollars, and as for picters, we find 
s plenty of ’em all round us for nothin — live picters, 
as it were ! 

There’s one I see every pleasant summer morn- 
in’, from my back door ! I wish I could describe 
it, but I can’t, nor begin tew. There lay the 
smooth, green medders, with the pretty crooked 
brooks windin’ through ’em, and on both sides, 
to the right and left, the pastur’ lands, where the 
cattle feed so peaceful and contented. Then, 
away off in the distance, the solium-lookin’ 
mount’in’s, with the shadders creep, creepin’ 
’round ’em or restin’ on their tops, while like’s 
not, all the time the sun shines bright and pleas- 
ant down below in the valley. 

It’s an awful harnsome picter, painted by God 
himself, and I’d like to see the thousand dollar 
ile paintin’ that could hold a candle to it ! 

But there ! I hain’t mentioned the most im- 
portant present, and the one that pleased Eich- 
ard and Car’line the most. 

Car’line’s Aunt Betsey Hawkins give her a rag 
carpit ! Yes, she cut the rags and wove it her- 
self. She had an old-fashioned loom, sech as 
they used to weave rag carpits on, and years ago, 


MR, AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 91 


she done a thrivin’ business at it. Folks from fur 
and near brought their rags, all cut and sewed in 
strips, and wound in great balls, and she wove 
’em into carpitin’, at so much a yard. 

Even in late years she has wove a good many ; 
folks like ’em, they are so warm and wear so 
well. 

The one she give Car’line was a beauty, and 
anybody’d say so; I don’t care if they’re New 
York folks, or Boston folks, or any other kind of 
folks! It was made of soft colors, drab and 
brown mostly, with a little narrer stripe of yeller 
runnin’ through it. Eichard said it was wonder- 
ful how Aunt Betsey could make it so harnsome 
out o’ nothin’ but rags, and he praised it till she 
felt as proud as a peacock. She was over seven- 
ty year old, and was gittin’ a little childish, you 
know. 

Mis’ Deacon Plummer she give ’em a great tub 
of her best June butter. Said how she’d heard 
that in New York they had to eat olymargyreen 
and the Old Harry ’n all for butter — anything, in 
p’int o’ fact, but good, honest butter — and she 
couldn’t bear the thought of Car’line’s eatin’ the 
pizen stuff. 

Eichard told her he guessed the safest way 
would be, for him to make a trade with her to 
supply ’em with butter the year round, and ’cord- 
in’ly they struck a bargin on the spot : and an 
outragyous stiff price it was he agreed to pay 
her, too. But I was glad on’t, and hoped, now. 


92 MR. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


Mis’ Plummer wojiild have a little money to 
spend. Her husband ain’t poor, but he’s tight 
as the bark to a tree, and she never has a cent to 
call her own. That’s why she had to give Car’- 
line butter for a weddin’ present, and I don’t be- 
lieve her husband would ’a’ let her give that, if 
he’d known anything about it. 

AVall, I hain’t mentioned half the things, of 
course, there was sech a stack on ’em, and when 
they was packed to send to their home in New 
York, Eichard said to Car’line, ‘‘ What’s the use of 
cartin’ all this ere calamity out to New York ? We 
can’t do nothin’ with it there, ’less we burn it up ! 
Why not leave it here with your Mar — stack it 
away up in the garret or somewheres ? ” 

But Car’line felt different about it, and she 
couldn’t bear to have him speak so. She looked 
at him with the tears in her pretty eyes, and 
says she, tremerlous, but decided: “No, in- 
deed ! Eichard ! We must take ’em all along. I 
wouldn’t make one of the Punkinville folks feel 
bad, for the hull of New York ! Oh, they must go, 
somehow ! ” 

When he see how she felt about it, he didn’t 
say no more. La ! he’d take out Punkinville 
meetin’ -house and set it down in their parlor, if 
he thought it would please her ! I wonder if he’ll 
alwers be so fond o’ Car’line ! 

I went home with ’em for a few days, to help 
.’em git settled down and so on. I s’pose their 
house was pretty much like other houses all 


MR. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 93 


around it, but it ’peared to me like a great pal- 
ace. I never see nothin’ equil tew it. Some 
things was awful queer and curi’s ; for instance, 
instid of doors they had heavy velvit curt’ins, as 
thick as a board— ^or^ya^Vs, they called ’em — and 
there wa’n’t a stove in the house except in the 
kitchen ; the heat was all manifactured somehow 
in the suller, and distriberted round in some mys- 
terious way, I dunno’ how. But the house was 
kep’ as warm as summer, the year round, even in 
the coldest days, they said. 

In Car’line’s room, beside of the bed where 
they slep’, was five little white buttons set into 
the wall, and if Car’line (’fore she was up — layin’ 
in her bed — mind ye) put her finger on No. 1, it 
rung a bell in the servants’ room, and routed 
them up ; if she touched No. 2, it lit the gas over 
her dressin’ table, and made her room as light as 
day ; No. 3 called up the servant-man, the butler, 
they called him, and so on. Car’line said it was 
done by ’lectricity, but it did beat all, anyway. 

I told her they’d ‘‘ git so’s to run everything by 
some kind o’ magic, bimeby ; then all we shall 
have to dew will be to laze in our beds, and once 
in a while touch a button in the wall, if we want 
anything!” 

We went through the rooms together, and Car’- 
line admired everything, and thanked Richard for 
thinkin’ of every least little thing for her comfort, 
as he had done ; and he seemed more than satis- 
fied, because she was. 


94 MB. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


But when we had been the rounds, Car’line 
slipped away, and Eichard missed her, and be- 
gun to fuss. (He can’t bear to have her out of 
his sight a minute.) ‘‘ Where in the world do 
you s’pose she’s gone ? ” says he, and we both 
started back up-stairs to find her. 

When we come to the store-room, where the 
trunks and things was that we’d brought from 
Punkinville, there set Car’line on the great roll 
of rag carpetin’, and she was cryin’ as if her heart 
would break. 

Eichard fiung himself down ’side of her, and 
took her in his arms as he would a baby. 

“ Why ! Car’line ! ” says he, “ cryin’ ? and on 
our very fust evenin’ at home — what is the mat- 
ter ? ” says he. 

Then she told him, betwixt sobbin’ and laughin’, 
that it was on account of the rag carpit and the 
rest of the things the Punkinville folks had given 
her. 

“ And I see as plain as you do,” says Car’line, 
“ that they ain’t noways sootable to put in sight 
in this house. But I love ’em — yes, I love ’em 
every one ! ” gittin’ more hystericky every minute, 
and I can’t and won’t tuck ’em away in the gar- 
ret, for the rats to eat up — I say I won't / 

“ Jest think,” she goes on, the tears streamin’ 
down her face — “ jest think, how will all the dear 
old friends feel — Aunt Betsey, and dear, dear 
Aunt Sarah, and Deacon Baton’s wife, and all the 
kind old neighbors, that have known and loved 


MB. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 95 


me, and been good to me, ever sence I was bom 
— that loved my mother, that mourn for her still — 
how will they feel, I say, when they come to see 
us, and find we don’t consider their presents fit 
to be seen ! Not one of ’em is really beautiful or 
artistick, I’m afraid, and some is dretful ; but, 
Eichard, they must be honored in this house ! ” 

She lifted her head a minute like a stately lily 
in a storm, then took to sobbin’ and cryin’ ag’in. 

It made Eichard jest about crazy to see her so. 

“ Have ’em exactly as you want ’em, and where 
you want ’em, darlin’,” he said. ‘‘ Put the rag- 
carpit in the parlor if you wanter and the ile 
abominations and all the rest of ’em ! Why, Car’- 
line! what do I care, if you are only happy!” 
says he. 

But she only cried the more. 

“You are good, so good,” she said, dismal, 
“ but I don’t feel as if I could bear to see ’em 
always in our rooms — secJi bad taste — they’d look 
so — so incongreivous’’ says she, “they’d — ^they’d 
drive me crazy 1 ” 

“ Oh-h ? they would ? ” says Eichard, laughin’ 
in spite of himself. 

“ You know they would 1 ” sobbed Car’line, pet- 
tishly, “ and I don’t see how you can be willin’ to 
have ’em 1 ” 

Then Eichard was in a quanderry and no mis- 
take ! “ It is all a terrible muddle, ain’t it ? ” 

says he, and he set there quite a while in speak- 
less misery, holdin’ her little hands and lookin’ 


96 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


into her pretty downcasted face, and tryin’ to 
think of some way out on’t. 

All of a sudden he jumped up and begun to 
tare round the room like a wild Injin. 

“ Hooray ! hooray 1 I’ve got an idee ! ” he hol- 
lers, dancin’ up and down before Car’line. “ Cheer 
up ! cheer up, Car’line, right off! You know the 
unfurnished room, the — the children’s room, that 
is to be, sometime, dear ? ” says he, kissin’ Car’- 
line’s blushin’ cheeks, “ wall, what’s to hender 
our riggin’ that up for a kind of old-fashioned 
spare-room ? 

“ Put down the rag carpit, and lay the dra wed- 
in rugs around on it, hang up the picters and ile- 
paintin’s, spread the risin’-sun quilt on the bed, 
et Rettery, et settery — scatter all the rest of the 
presents kinder promis’cus, you know, and there 
you have it ! and what’s more, you’ll have a good- 
lookin’ room as well as an interestin’ one, for as 
everything will harmonize it can’t be inartistick,” 
says he. 

“ Then when our Punkinville friends comes to 
see us, they’ll occerpy it, and feel honored and 
happy in dewin’ so 1 ” 

Car’line was delighted. “It will be lovely!” 
she said, clappin’ her hands. “ Kichard ! you 
are a genius ! You have helped me out of the 
wust dilemmy I ever got into ! ” 

They couldn’t set about the job at once, for 
there was some few pieces of furnitoor they’d got 
to send to Punkinville for, in order to carry out 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 97 


the plan complete. In a week’s time they arrove. 
An old mahogany bedstid, a little spindle-legged 
table, and a chist of drawers with brass trimmin’s 
and claw feet; all of ’em was Car’line’s gran’- 
mar’s, and her mar’s after her. 

Wall, when they got that room done, it was a 
success, and no mistake! It was Punkinville 
hiled doivn, as you might say, for, as Eichard said, 
no one room in Punkinville ever begun to contain 
so many treasures and works of art ! 

In front of the great winder that looked out on 
to the city street, was the little spindle-legged 
light stand, as graceful and airy a little table as 
I ’bout ever see, and layin’ on it was Car’line’s 
mar’s hymn-book and Testament. The little 
rockin’-chair she used ter set in, stood close be- 
side on’t, and Car’line told me private, that she 
reckoned that when she got tired of her velvit 
carpits and marble statooary, of her grand com- 
pany and all the city dewin’s — she reckoned it 
would be a great comfort to shet herself up in 
that room, and set down in her mar’s little rocker, 
and read a verse or too out of the old Bible or 
hymn-book, and then think or pray a spell, or, 
mebby, fall off into dreamin’ of the sweet and 
dear old days, when she was a simple little 
country girl. 

Not that Car’line expected to be really home- 
sick or unhappy! No, indeed! how could she, 
with the best husband in the world, and every 
identicle thing that heart could wish ! — but she 


98 MB. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


expected to keep her old feelin’s and her old 
simplicity, and she wouldn’t be Car’line if she 
didn’t. 

Wall, they christened the old-fashioned room 
“ Aunt Betsey's Boxodoor^' 

and it went by that name ever after. 

As luck would have it, Aunt Betsey made ’em 
a visit pretty soon and was the fust one to sleep 
in it, so she dedicated it, as you might say. 
Come bedtime, Car’line went up with her to her 
room and she see the name on the door, in beauti- 
ful illoominated letters : 

“ Aunt Betsey's Boxodoor^' 

and when she went inside, and see her rag carpit 
on the floor, and all the homey things around 
her, she wiped her eyes, and smiled as pleased 
as could be, and says she to Car’line : 

“ Lawful sakes ! Car’line, I should feel to home 
in this ’ere room if it was in Africy ! But what 
a pity to put all your prettiest things in the 
company room ! I should think you’d want 
’em where you could enjoy ’em yourself! But 
I alwers knowed you was the most onselfish 
creatur in the world 1 ” 

And Car’line blushed and smiled, feelin’ a lit- 
tle guilty, but pretty well satisfied after all. 


CHAPTEE YHI. 


THEY WRESTLE WITH SCIENCE AND THEOLOGY. 

Hannibal and me was settin’ out on our piazzer 
one night after supper, as we ginerally did when 
there wa’n’t nothin’ ter hender. I was knittin’ 
and Hannibal was readin’, or had been. 

It was gettin’ to be darkish, but we continnered 
ter set, it was so cool and pleasant. Bimeby the 
stars begun ter come out, and the moon riz up 
slow and grand in the west. It was a beautiful 
sight, and I said so to Hannibal. 

“ Ain’t it beautiful ? ” says I, and this is what 
he answers, dreamy like, with his eyes fixed on 
the moon : 

“ Wife, I run of a notion that them fellers is 
right about the moon. It looks reasonable.” 

What looks reasonable, Hannibal ? ” 

“Why, that the moon is a world like ourn, 
and that it’s goin’ ter be fitted up in grand shape 
for us to live in — after we die, ye know.” 

“ Hannibal,” I asks, real matter o’ fack, 
“ where’bouts in the Bible do you find that pas- 
sage ? ” 

“ Oh — nowheres — that is, not literal^ I guess. 


100 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


though it is proba’ly founded on Scriptur’. It’s a 
— a theory, ye know. Tells about it in this ere 
magazine. The feller says ” 

“ Don’t ! ” I interrupts, calmly, don’t waste 
your breath. What difference can it make what 
he says ? What means can he possibly have o’ 
ku owin’ whuther we shall live in the moon after 
we’re dead, or — or in Punkinville ? ” says I. 

“ In Punkinville ! ” snaps Hannibal, “ wherever 
’tis, I hope ter massy it won’t be in Punkinville ! 
I’ve got about enough o’ Punkinville ! ” 

“ What’s the matter o’ Punkinville ? ” I asks. 

Hain’t we happy here ? Hain’t it a pretty 
place % Look ’round ye,” says I, p’intin’ with my 
knit tin’ -work, “ see how harnsome the intervales 
lay down there, so green and peaceful, with the 
great ellums wavin’ above ’em ! See the river 
windin’ through ! See the old meetin’-house 
sleepin’ there in the holler, with the holy white 
grave-stuns glistenin’ round it in the moonlight. 
There’s your mill tew, all in good repair, restin’ 
from her labors as everything else in natur’ is, 
ter night.” 

“ The old mill ! ” growls Hannibal, “ she might 
as well rest all the time and done with it ! The 
punkin-sifter business ain’t good for nothin’ 
lately — ain’t wuth a row of pins — don’t amount 
ter Hanner Cook ! ” 

“ Hannibal,” says I, “ don’t multiply no more 
eperthets on to that mill! Your business will 
alwers have its ups and downs, but so long as 


MR. AMD MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 101 


punkin pie is e’t in New England, tlie Hawkins 
Punkin-Sifter’ll sell, more or less.” 

“ Less, I guess,” says Hannibal. 

“ Wall,” says I, “ ’lowin’ tbe punkin-sifter busi- 
ness ain’t so good as it was, what reason have 
you to s’pose it’ll be any better in the moon ? ” 

Hannibal looked at me dretful queer and fool- 
ish, and couldn’t say a word, only rub his head. 
I garped real sleepy, and rolled up my knittin’ 
work. 

“ Husband,” says I, “ I guess the creaturs out 
ter the barn are beginnin’ to think it’s about their 
bed-time, don’t you ? ” 

“ I shouldn’t wonder if they was,” he says, and 
got up and went off ter tend tew ’em. 

“ Thanks be ter massy,” says I to myself, “ he’s 
headed off for the present, anyway ! But I found 
out it was only a temporary divarsion, as you 
might say. Come Sunday mornin’, when we was 
ready for mootin’, he takes up his hat and gloves, 
and instid o’ puttin’ ’em on, he stands still lookin’ 
off out the winder. 

“ Come, Hannibal, hurry up, it’s late,” says I. 

The bell is most done ringin’.” 

“ Kuth Ann,” says he, “ let’s go to the Baptis’ 
mootin’ to-day.” 

If he’d struck me a blow with his cane, I 
declare I shouldn’t ’a’ been much more ’ston- 
ished ! 

‘‘ To the Baptis’ meetin’ ? What for ? ” says I. 

“ Oh, I’ve been lookin’ into some things lately, 


102 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


and I don’t feel altergether sure we’re on the right 
track. It’s well enough to hear and consider all 
sides, anyways.” 

‘‘Hannibal,” says I, “I hain’t a word to say 
ag’inst the Baptis’ nor any other meetin’, but as 
for the ‘ track,' I reckon it don’t amount to shucks 
which one we’re on ; they all lead to the same 
place. But after we know a way and have got used 
tew it, I reckon it’s best to keep it ; not go explo- 
ratin’ and whifflin’ round from one ter t’other.” 

Hannibal set down detarmined then, and says 
he : 

“ I ain’t a-goin’ a step to no meetin' this mornin’. 
Buth Ann, there’s a good many things layin’ 
heavy on my mind. Let’s talk.” 

“Hannibal Hawkins! show me your tongue 
this minute 1 ” says I. “ You’re bilyus, that’s 
what’s the matter o’ you 1 ” 

“ Bilyus 1 ” says he, indignant. “ I ain’t, more’n 
you be, not a mite 1 ” But he put out his tongue 
and it did look bad, jest as I expected, and I 
made up my mind he should take a liver pill, 
large size, that very night, and if necessary I’d 
get out that ere ^'regiment” There’s nothin’ 
like inppin’ these symptims in the bud. 

But he insisted on havin’ a talk, and so I took 
off my things and set down beside on him. 

“ Now, speak out,” says I, “ free your mind, 
and you’ll feel better, though I think the pill is 
all you really need.” 

“ Oh, Kuth Ann 1 ” Hannibal bursts out, “I tell 


ifi?. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 103 


ye it’s my mind and not my liver that’s ’fected ! 
I’ve been readin’ and thinkin’ a good deal lately 
— you know business has been slack — and I’ve 
’bout come to the conclusion that we don’t really 
know anything — that is, not much — for sartin. I 
begin ter wonder whuther no we Congregation- 
ers are right — that is, in all respecks. And I 
dunno ’s the Baptis’ nor Methodis’ nor ’Piscopals 
be nuther. No more I don’t see how the Univar- 
salers can be. But I s’pose some on ’em must be 
right. They might all be right, seein’ there’s 
plenty o’ Scriptur’ ter support ’em, only that they 
don’t any two on ’em agree.” And he scowled 
and rubbed his head, awful perplexed. “ Some- 
times I’m even most tempted to think that Scrip- 
tur’ ain’t right — as it were ” 

“ That’ll dew, Mr. Hawkins,” says I, dignified 
and commandin’ as you please. “ When we begin 
to find fault with the Bible, it’s time to stop or — • 
or dew somethin’.” 

‘VWall, ain’t I a-tryin’ to dew somethin’ ? ” says 
he, with a kind of a grin. 

“ Hannibal,” says I, we might as well stop 
this argerin’ before we begin. We sha’n’t come 
to nothin’. What’s the ’casion on’t, anyway ! It’s 
jest here ; because the punkin-sifter business is 
dull you’ve occerpied yourself findin’ fault with 
the mill, the meetin’-houses, the Bible, and your 
Maker. What’s the ’casion on’t ? Ain’t God, and 
the meetin’-houses, and the Bible, and the cate- 
chism, and the creed jest the same’s they’ve al- 


104 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


wers been ever sence you can remember ? Has 
anything happened to them to change ’em ? ” 

“ Why, no, I dunno’s there has,” says he, “ that 
is, not up here in Punkinville. But we hear 
about great dewin’s in the cities, down country. 
They say there’s churches in Boston that don’t 
pertend to believe the Bible — not even the min- 
ister don’t, you know — and a good many Ortho- 
doxes preach that there’s goin’ to be a chance 
to git religion after death ! They’re goin’ to 
give the heathin’ a chance too — everybody, Buth 
Ann ! And between you ’n me, Buth Ann ” (look- 
in’ over his shoulder, as if he’s afraid the minis- 
ter might be somewhere round), ‘‘ between you ’n 
me, I’m blarsted if I don’t like this idee ! It looks 
grand and liberal, some way ! ” flourishin’ his 
arms wide apart as if takin’ in all creation. 
‘‘ But,” he continuers, dejected like, “ I can’t find 
hide nor hair o’ no sech doctrines in the Bible ; I 
wish I could ! There seems to be most every- 
thing else,” and he stops ag’in and rubs his head. 

Now, I’d thought of all these things long ago, 
and had settled ’em by givin’ up beat, and I 
knew where I couldn’t make no headway, it wa’n’t 
any use for Hannibal to start in. More, too, I 
was afraid it might hurt his brains and make him 
a drivellin’ ijiot, he’s so odd, anyway, you know ; 
so I wa’n’t goin’ to encourage him in it. 

“ Hannibal,” says I, “ what’s the use o’ torment- 
in’ ourselves about these things, hey ? ” 

“Why, I dunno’s it’s any actewal use,” says 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 105 


he, kinder took aback. “ But there seems to be a 
good deal o’ controvarsy goin’ on jest now down 
country, as I said, in — in Andover and Boston, 
ye know.” 

‘‘ Wall, what if there is ! ” says I, matter-o’-fact. 
“ Them places is a good ways off. There ain’t no 
controvarsy in Punkinville, and ’tain’t likely there 
ever will be in our day ! ” 

“ Punkinville’s a hundred years behind the 
times ! ” says Hannibal, real spiteful. 

“ As fur as opportunities for findin’ out God and 
livin’ nigh to Him is consarned, Punkinville is 
equil to Andover and Boston, any day,” says I. 
“ Hain’t we got the Bible same’s they have, writ 
in the same language? Then we’ve got natur’, 
everywheres and continewal. The Bible and 
natur’ is God’s own books, and in some respecks 
natur’ is easier understood and plainer spoken 
of the two. There ain’t so much theology about 
her, perhaps, so much chance for wranglin’ and 
discussin’, but there’s comfort and religion. 
Listen to her teachin’, Hannibal ; open your 
heart to her soothin’ influence, and she will dew 
you good.” I took hold of his hand and led him 
out on to the door-stun, and there we stood for 
some minutes lookin’ and listenin’ in silence. 

Mebby you know what a pleasant Sunday 
mornin’ in the country is like ? As we stood 
there we ^couldn’t hear a single sound of men’s 
week-day work or dewin’s — scarce any sound at 
all, even the birds was still. But bimeby, while 


106 MB. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HA^VKINS. 


we waited, I felt as if we was spoke to out of all 
that silence, distinck and audible, and I says to 
Hannibal : 

“ I wonder if the same word comes to you ? 
what is it ? ” 

And he answers slow and solium, with his eyes 
on mine : 

“It says ‘Peace!’” Then he squeezed my 
hand, and I squeezed his’n back, and says I : 

“ Now, Hannibal, let me ask you, carm and 
candid, what does this ’ere bangin’ o’ the Bible 
in meetin’-houses, and wranglin’ over creeds and 
doctrines amount tew, any way, if they fail to git 
Peace in their souls ? ” 

And Hannibal answers, emphatic : 

“Nothin’, Euth Ann. It don’t amount to 
nothin’.” Then I rejoiced, for I felt that he was 
on the high road to recovery ; and he was, but he 
hadn’t got there yet ; he wa’n’t satisfied. After 
settin’ still a spell, he begins ag’in, kinder sheep- 
ish : 

“ Euth Ann, I guess it’s well enough for us to 
let theology alone, but it can’t dew no hurt to dip 
inter science a little, hey ? What do you think 
o’ this ’ere Everlution business we read so much 
about ? If it really did take God thousands o’ 
years to make the world instid o’ six days time, 
as we’ve been brought up to believe, it’s funny, 
‘ ain’t it % ” 

Now, I ruther favored the opinion o’ science in 
regard to the creation of the world, for it alwers 


MR, AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. lOT 


looked to me like a pretty big week’s work, 
though I don’t doubt the Creator’s power to dew 
the job in even less time if He’d been a min’ ter, 
and I says so now to Hannibal. “But why 
should he a’ felt in a hurry ? ” says I. “He had 
plenty o’ time. It wa’n’t as if men and beasts 
was a sufferin’ for the comforts of a home, and a 
place to stay o’ nights. No, for there wa’n’t any 
men nor beasts. God showed His wisdom and 
care in makin’ the world fust and its inhabitants 
afterward.” 

“ Why, yes,” says Hannibal, grinnin’ ; “ though 
if He’d made ’em fust what could he ’a done with 
’em — jest s’pos’n, ye know. Why, ’tain’t a s’pos- 
able case ! What could He ’a’ done with ’em ! ” 

“ Stood ’em up ag’inst the fence — let ’em wait, 
of course,” says I, “ or — oh, a good many ways 1 ” 
I wa’n’t a-goin’ to have Hannibal questionin’ the 
power of the Almighty, and so I didn’t give him 
any chance. I goes on : 

“ Some think the words ‘ six days ’ means six 
thousand years, or a long period of time. Words 
ain’t as they used to be in them ancient tongues.” 

“ No, I s’pose not,” says Hannibal ; “ but, Kuth 
Ann, can it be that men was — was monkeys once? 
Can it be ! ” 

“ Sometimes I think it can,” says I, “ but the 
Bible don’t throw much light on the subjeck.” 

“ It don’t open its head about it, nowhere — ^not 
a word, as I can find,” says Hannibal. 

“ Wall, if it don’t, I reckon it’s because it don’t 


108 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


make no difference to us anyway,” says I, gar- 
pin’, awful indifferent. “But, Hannibal, what 
do you want for your lunch this noon ? What 
say to some fresh-biled eggs ’long with the cold 
chicken ? I hear the old white hen cacklin’ now ; 
let’s go’n git the eggs.” 




CHAPTEE IX. 

MBS. GRIBBIN’S “at HOME.” — THE OMISSION OF THE 
MISTER. 

Punkinyille was a dretful fashnerble place for 
a country town. There was some o’ the folks 
that had relations in big cities, and so picked up 
a good many idees and notions about fashion 
and society, and they was silly enough to want 
to try and foller soot in Punkinville. Conse- 
quently, pretty soon after Hannibal and me got 
home from our bridle toor. Mis’ Jotham Gribbin, 
one o’ the most promernent women in town, give 
out that she was goin’ to have a party, and in a 
few days our invitations to it come along. 

This is what it said on the envelope : 

“ Mis' Hannibal Hawhins," 

and inside was a little square card with her 
name, 

“ Mis' Jotham Gribbin," 

in the middle, and down in the left-hand corner : 
“ At Home. 3 to 6 p.m. April 4, 18 — 


110 MB. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


That was all, every identicle word ! 

I read it and passed it to Hannibal. 

He looked at the envelope and turned it over 
*n over, and says he : Hm ! Mis' Hannibal Haw- 
kins ! ” 

I Iboked at it ag’in, and sure enough, it did 
read jest Alis' Hannibal Hawkins. 

“I guess, she must ’a forgot to put on the 
Mister,” says I ; “or ’less she made a mistake.” 

“A curi’s mistake to make, and we jest mar- 
ried,” says Hannibal, kinder grumpy ; “ I’m a 
good min’ to not go a step ! ” 

“Oh, now, husband! how foolish!” says I; 
“ she’s naterally got a good deal on her mind — 
and besides ‘ Major and Mis’ Hannibal Haiohins ’ is 
a long mess to write. I don’t believe she could 
git it all on this ’ere little envelope, if she tried ; 
not in one line, anyway.” 

“ Let her kiver the pesky little thing all over, 
then ! She’d orter took a bigger one in the fust 
place ! ” snaps Hannibal. 

Then he read the card out loud : 

“ ‘ At Home.’ What do you make o’ that, Ruth 
Ann ? ” says he, lookin’ wild. “ Ain’t folks gin- 
erally to home when they give a party ? Where 
in nater should they be? Nobody ’d think o’ 
goin’ to Africy or the Sandwidge Islands to find 
’em, would they ? Everybody knows where the 
Gribbinses live, if they know anything! ‘At 
Home ! ’ ” he repeats, contemptewous, “ and see 
here ! I’ll be hanged if they hain’t told us jest 


MB. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. Ill 


when to go and how long to stay ! ‘ From 3 to 6 
P. M.’ We’re expected to leave at 6 o’clock per- 
cisely, I s’pose ! Wall ! I must say, Ruth Ann, it 
ain’t much like the good old-fashioned hosper- 
tality we’ve been ’customed to. We’ve ginerally 
been expected to go when we got ready, and stay 
as long as we could — ^till mornin’, if we was a 
min’ter, ’specially if there was dancin’.” 

I had to confess that it didn’t seem very corjul. 
She might at least ’a said somethin’ about “ the 
pleasure of our comp’ny,” it couldn’t ’a’ done no 
hurt, and we should ’a’ felt better ; and besides, if 
we hadn’t heard aforehand that she was goin’ to 
give a party, we shouldn’t ’a’ know’d what under 
the sun she meant by her ‘ At Home.' ” 

“ I conclude there ain’t goin’ to be no dancin’,” 
says I ; “ the time is fixed so short, and seein’ it’s 
in the day-time too.” 

“ I wonder if they’ll have anything to eat ? 
Bread ’n water’d go good with their skimpy in- 
vite,” says Hannibal, sarcastic. 

“Wall, we’ll go and see, then we shall know all 
about it,” says I, “ and I shouldn’t wonder if we 
had a real good time after all.” 

Of course I was dyin’ to find out what other 
folks thought of the invitations, and what kind of 
a party they thought it was goin’ to be, and so 
on. You see, bein’ a new-comer, I didn’t feel like 
runnin’ in intimit to the neighbors’ houses yet, 
as I used to at home. But I wa’n’t kep’ long in 
the dark, for the very next mornin’, our nighest 


112 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


neighbor, Mis’ Ezry Hackett, come drivin’ in 
’fore we got our breakfast out the way, and she 
was chuckin’ full and bilin’ over with the subject. 
She said how “them invitations might be styl- 
ish, she persumed they was, all-killin’ stylish, 
seein’ Mis’ Gribbin’s daughter had been visitin’ 
in Boston all winter, but ’cordin’ to her way o’ 
thinkin’ they wa’n’t corjul, nor they wa’n’t civil ! ” 
I spoke about the omission of the “ mister ” on 
our’n, and she said their ’n was jest the same, 
and all the rest she’d heard on, “ and I dew say,” 
says she, “ that it leaves the men in a terrible 
awkward fix ! It may be a mistake,” says she, 
“ but I should sooner think it’s Boston fashion. 
You know how strong-minded them ’ere Boston 
women be, and mebby that’s one o’ their 
women’s right’s ways of ignorin’ and puttin’ 
down the men. But I must say it is goin’ a 
leetle too fur. Men-folks is naterally sensitive, 
anyway,” says she, “ and I s’pose Major Hawkins 
feels it oncommon, bein’ jest married, and so.’* 
She said she s’posed the easiest way to find out 
about the hull thing would be to go to Mis’ 
Gribbin herself, frank and candid, and inquire ; 
“ but,” says she, “ Mis’ Gribbin is so mighty big 
feelin’ and airy that there ain’t a woman in 
Punkinville that would be willin’ to yumor her 
so much. No, we must go right ahead, as if 
we knew all about ‘At Homes,’ and went to 
’em every day in the week.” She said if she 
found out anything more she’d run in and tell 


ME. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 113 


me. That very afternoon, in she come, all of a 
fluster. 

“What do you think now?” says she, “Mis* 
Gribbin’s niece told Mis’ Deacon Laton, and Mis* 
Deacon Laton told me, that they wa’n’t agoin’ to 
take off their things at all to that party ! That 
the proper way for us to dew is to wear our bun- 
nits, and keep ’em on ! Did you ever ! And she 
says we ain’t expected to stop no time at all — ^jest 
go in one door and pass out t’other, same’s they 
do at funerals, you know ! That’s what she said. 
But afterward I see Mis’ Barber, and she told 
me that her Mariar met Serinthy Ann Gribbin 
down to the post-office yesterday, and in the 
course o’ the conversation she let on that they 
was goin’ to have refreshments — cake and coffy — 
and now, if they be, they’ve got to give us time 
to eat ’em, hain’t they ? ’less we put ’em in our 
pockets to carry home ! And ’tain’t likely they 
expect us to eat loitli our hunnits on, is it? I 
shouldn’t wonder if the deacon’s wife misunder- 
stood, she’s kinder hard o’ bearin’ anyway.’.’ 

I’d been thinkin’ the matter over carm and 
candid, and when Mis’ Hackett got done, I 
says : 

“ Mis’ Hackett, let other folks dew as they’re a 
min’ to about this ’ere party ; lets you ’n me use 
our common senses. Common sense is better’n 
Boston ettykett, or any other kind of ettykett,” 
says I. “ How, it says on this card, which is cal- 
kerlated to be an invite to a party” (here Mis* 


114 MR, AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


Hackett smiled sarcastic), “ it says ‘ from 3 to 6,* 
don’t it?” 

“ Ondoubtedly it does read thus and so,” says 
Mis’ Hackett. 

“ Wall,” I continners, “ I don’t see how we can 
be fur out of the way if we’re there punctewal at 
3 o’clock, and leave at 6 o’clock sharp. It seems 
to me that would be strickly ’cordin’ to the terms 
of the invite, if not ’cordin’ to ettykett. Hey ? ” 
says I. 

“Yes, yes, I think so, sartin,” answers Mis’ 
Hackett. “ That percession business must ’a 
been all a mistake. Mis’ Gribbin wouldn’t have 
the face to ask us to leave our work and take the 
trouble of dressin’ up jest to go over there and 
pass in one door and out o’ t’other. Of course 
not, ’tain’t reasonable,” says she. 

The next day was Sunday, and everybody was 
out to meetin’, and I’m afeared there was more 
thinkin’ about Mis’ Gribbin’s ''At Home'' than 
there was about the sermon. But Parson Alden, 
dear old soul, seein’ us all so much more wide 
awake than usual, preached oncommon lively and 
amest, and I heard him remark to Deacon Laton, 
goin’ out o’ meetin’, that he did “ have faith to 
believe that Punkinville was on the threshold of 
a powerful revival, for never in his durin’ experi- 
ence had he preached to a more interesteder and 
wide-awake congregation than what he had that 
day.” 

I felt ’shamed and conscience-smit enough, and 


MB. AMD MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 115 


I made up my mind on the spot that the dear old 
man shouldn’t never have no more cause to com- 
plain of me nor my folks for not keepin’ awake, if 
there was any vartue in cayann pepper losengers 
and hunchin’s. (I’m dretful apt to drowze in 
meetin’ myself, and Hannibal ginerally ’lows to 
put in half an hour’s good sound sleep durin’ 
sermon time.) 

When we got home, Hannibal told me how the 
men-folks had talked over the matter of the invi- 
tations, out in the horse-sheds at noon time, and 
had ’p’inted a meetin’ at John Russell’s house 
for a Monday night, to take a vote whuther no 
they should resent the omission o’ the Mister as 
an insult, or jest stay to home and mind nothin’ 
about it, or go, or what % And every man had 
agreed to think the matter over thurrer between 
whiles, and be perpared to vote ’cordin’ly. 

I thought that was a very good way to settle 
it, and I felt pretty sure the majority would vote 
to go. 

And they did. But some of ’em that lived 
quite a ways out of the village grumbled a good 
deal at the early hour set for the party to begin ; 
said they “ didn’t think much of leavin’ their 
work right in the middle o’ the day, as it were, 
and riggin’ up and startin’ out to a party. Why 
couldn’t Mis’ Gribbin have her’n in the evenin’, 
as other folks did ? ” 

Hannibal and me, bein’ jest married, was 
pretty well on’t for clo’es, of course, and we 


116 MB. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


reckoned what was good enough to wear on our 
bridle toor in New York City was good enough 
for Punkinville, so we was all right ; but some 
was consider’ble exercised and put out. Don’t 
you know, some folks never have anything to 
wear, no matter what the time or ’casion is. Did 
you ever notice it ? 

The party was set for Wednesday night, and 
Wednesday mornin’ Mis’ Hacket run over in a 
great ter dew, and said that Ezry (that’s her hus- 
band) had been down to the store, to git him a 
new pair o’ pantaloons to go ’long with his best 
soot, and he found the store full of men, all after 
clo’es — pants, vests, or coats, or somethin’ — and 
she said how that Mr. Morse, the storekeeper, 
was most crazy, for he hadn’t but jest two soots 
in the store, and them wouldn’t fit nobody ; and 
Mr. Morse said if he had knowed in time, he 
could ’a’ sent to the city and laid in a stock jest 
as well as not, and fitted ’em all out in shape. 
He didn’t feel any wuss’n the men did, you better 
believe. But, you see, we had all been so took 
up with the omission o’ the Mister, that we hadn’t 
thought o’ clo’es. 

“ Let ’em wear their meetin’ clo’es,” says I to 
Miss’ Hackett ; “ what looks well enough to 
wear ter meetin’ orter look well enough for a 
party.” 

“ I know it,” says she ; “ ginerally speakin’, it 
orter, but I guess likely a good many is jest in 
Ezry’s fix ; kinder ‘ between hay and grass,’ and 


MB. AMD MBS. RAMMIBAL RAWKIMS. 117 


thinkin’ their old clo’es would dew till cold 
weather, they’ve got pretty shabby. I notice men 
ain’t apt to buy new clo’es till the edge o’ winter 
or so.” 

Wall, they all had to do the best they could, I 
s’pose. Mis’ Jinks she cut off the legs of her 
husband’s pants and turned ’em ’round hind side 
afore, and sewed ’em on ag’in, so the patches on 
the knees would come in the holler of his legs, 
where they wouldn’t show ; and Mis’ Hackett she 
inked the seams of Ezry’s pants, and pressed out 
the knees, and turned in the edges round the 
bottom where they was frayed out. But she got 
’em dretful short ; they did look redickerlous ! 
I couldn’t help noticin’ ’em at the party. And 
there was a number o’ men with their’n the same 
way. I asked Hannibal afterward, if they 
couldn’t ’a’ let down their galluses or somethin’, 
but he laughed, and said there wa’n’t ginerally 
much help for “ high icater pants.'' (That’s what 
he called ’em.) 

There wa’n’t nothin’ the matter with Hannibal’s 
clo’es any way. He made a noble ’pearance, if I 
dew say it, and I feel to believe that I looked 
reasonable well myself. 

Wall, Hannibal and me got ready, and stopped 
on the way for Mis’ Hackett and Ezry, so’s to go 
’long with them. We rung Mis’ Gribbin’s door- 
bell jest as the clock was strikin’ three. 

“We’re punctewal, anyway,” I whispers to 
Hannibal, “ and punctewality is a vartue, I don’t 


118 MB. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


care whutlier it’s in Punkinville or Boston,” says 

I. 

Serintliy Ann Gribbin come to the door, and 
spoke to us very perlite, but I thought she 
’peared kinder strange, someway. She says, 

1 “Walk right in, ladies,” then she turns to the 
men, hesitatin’ and flustered : 

“ Er — er — will you come in too, gentlemen ? ” 
she says. 

They did come in, of course, follerin’ along be- 
hind us, and lookin’ sheepish. 

Instid o’ askin’ us to go upstairs and lay off 
our things, she opened the parlor door and took 
us right in there. Speakin’ up quite loud, and 
bearin on to the word Mister oncommon heavy, 
she sings out : 

''Mister and Mis’ Hawkins, Mister and Mis* 
Hackett!” 

Her mar come for’ard and shook hands with us, 
lookin’ queer at the men, same’s Serinthy Ann 
had, and I begun to be morilly sartin, if not dead 
sure, that we’d made an onmitergated mistake in 
fetchin’ ’em along, but I detarmined to make the 
best on’t, and I hoped the rest would do the 
same. 

When Mis’ Gribbin shook hands with Mis’ 
Hackett, Mis’ Hackett laughed, and says, kinder 
off-hand and familiar, as one neighbor to another, 
you know : 

“Your mar and me don’t need to be inter- 
duced, Serinthy; we was brought up girls ter- 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 119 


gether, right here in Punkinville, wa’n’t we, Mis’ 
Gribbin ? ” 

But la! Mis’ Gribbin’ didn’t even smile ; she 
jest nodded her head imperceptible and horty, as 
much as to say : “ No liberties, no triflin’, this is 
a momentuous occasion, and I’m a good deal 
more’n momentuous myself 1 ” 

But she says to me^ quite condescendin’ and 
corjul : 

“ I am glad ter welcome you to our circle. Mis’ 
Hawkins,” says she ; and thinks I to myself, so an 
‘‘ At Home ” is a circle of some kind, but as I 
didn’t see no sewin’ layin’ round, I concluded it 
wa’n’t a common sewin’ circle. 

Wall, the folks poured in and poured in, and 
all the women brought their husbands, same’s we 
did. 

“ Mercy ! ” says Mis’ Hackett to me, where did 
the Gribbinses expect to put all these folks ? 
Much as ever the meetin’ house would hold ’em. 
There must be a mistake somewheres, or else 
awful poor calkerlation. 

I suspicioned that there was considerable of 
both, but I didn’t say so. 

They kep’ cornin’ for about half an hour, till the 
parlor and settin’-room was full and runnin’ over. 
Then they begun to stow ’em away in the dinin’- 
room and kitchen. In p’int o’ fact, there wa’n’t 
no comfort nowheres from the beginnin’ ; nothin’ 
but crowdin’ and squeezin’ and pushin’, and ev- 
erybody was buzzin’ about the omission o’ the 


120 MB. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


Mister, and speckerlatin’ as to whutlier tlie men ^ 
was expected to come. 

It didn’t take the women long to see through 
the hull business, but meii-folks are awful num’ 
about some things, you know, and this time, per- 
haps, it was jest as well they was. 

As I said, it was terrible crowded and hot — oh, 
pipin’ hot! All the women ontied their bunnit 
strings and fanned themselves with their hand- 
kerchi’fs, and the men took off fust their coats, 
and finally their vests, and carried ’em on their 
arms. 

Hannibal got the idee that there was more room 
out in the kitchen, so he put me behind him, and 
tellin’ me to keep close, he fit his way through. 
But when we got there we didn’t seem to be much 
better off. There wa’n’t no place to set down, 
amd the stove was red-hot, but we managed to 
open a winder and shet up the stove, then took 
turns settin’ in the wood-box, which was better’n 
nothin’ ; but as Hannibal remarked, there wa’n’t 
“ much party to it ; we could set in the wood-box 
to home.” 

Hannibal perceeded at once to interduce me 
to all the folks in the kitchen, and for the fust 
time we engaged in a little somethin’ like conver- 
sation. 

After they’d all asked me separate, how I liked 
Punkinville, they fell back onto the subjeck of 
the party, and one little woman says, laughin’ : 

“ If this ere’s the kind of parties they have in 


MB. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 121 


Boston, I pity ’em ! For goodness’ sake, let’s do 
somethin’ — chewin’ gum would be better’n noth- 
in’, wouldn’t it ? ” 

So sayin’ she took a great big paper of spruce 
gum out of her pocket, and passed it round, and 
in a few minutes we was all busy chewin’ and 
talkin’ away real sociable. Gum is sociable any- 
way, don’t you think so ? 

But Hannibal said it wa’n’t “fillin’,” and it 
made him feel hungry, so he begun to fuss about 
goin’ home. 

“ Oh, no, you mustn’t go home yet,” they all 
says, “ we shall have refreshments bimeby.” 

It was my turn settin’ in the wood-box, and jest 
then I heard voices outside in what ’peared to be 
the shed behind me. The wood-box stood close 
to the shed door, I took it, and I heard Mis’ 
Gribbin say distinctly : 

“ What did the ’tarnal fools come for, anyway, 
when they wa’n’t invited ? Did they ’spose our 
house would hold the hull town o’ Punkinville ? ” 

Then Mister Gribbin answers, and says he : 

“ But now they’re here, they’ve got to stay. It 
wouldn’t never dew to mad ’em jest ’fore ’lection. 
You can see that as well as I can, if you ain’t a 
gump and a fool ! ” 

She grumbled out somethin’ I didn’t hear, then 
she says : 

“ Wall, s’pos’n they stay, who’s a goin’ to feed 
’em ? I hain’t got cake and coffy enough for 
this crowd to smell on,'’ says she, sarcastic. 


122 MB. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS, 


“ Leave me to manage that,” says he ; then he 
says somethin’ ’bout his new barn (he was buildin* 
a barn at the time). 

Not long after — say half an hour or so, Mister 
Gribbin ’peared in the parlor, and rappin’ on the 
seraphim, sung out : 

“ Attention, ladies and gentlemen, attention ! ” 

Then, when we was all still, he bows right and 
left, awful limber-jinted and graceful, and thus 
addresses us : 

‘‘Ladies and gentlemen — that is — neighbors 
— er — citizens o’ Punkinville! I was — was hend- 
ered from gittin’ home to the party before, on 
’count of — business, pressin’ business. Conse- 
quentially our plans for the ’commodation and 
entertainment of our guests and guestesses 
hain’t been strickly carried out — ^not up to this 
p’int — but you’re all here,'' bowin’ and rubbin’ 
his hands and smilin’, “ yes, you’re all here, and 
now, hopin’ it ain’t too late, I take pleasure 
in perceedin’ to carry out my — that is to say 
— our plans. Gentlemen, feller-townsmen and 
neighbors, will you walk out to my new barn? 
Mis’ Gribbin will tend to the ladies. Come 
on, gentlemen, this way! You all know the 
way ! ” 

Oh, how they did skedaddle ! Almost before 
the words was out of his mouth they started, 
heels over head, without sayin’ boo to their 
wives, or stoppin’ to put on their coats and vests. 


MB. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 123 


SO that in a dretful few minutes we women-folks 
was left in the house by ourselves. 

Mis’ Gribbin and Serinthy Ann was now differ- 
ent bein’s. They invited us to make ourselves 
perfeckly to home, and we done so, and bimeby 
they brought in cake and coffy, and we e’t and 
chatted and had sech a pleasant time that when 
the clock struck six we couldn’t hardly believe it 
was so late. Mis’ Hackett and me we meant to 
be punctewal to go as well as to come, so we was 
ready to start, but our men-folks didn’t put in 
their ’pearance. 

We waited some little time, and then I ser- 
gested to Mis’ Hackett that we go over and see 
the new barn and so git our pardners. ’Cordin’ly 
we took our leaves of Mis’ Gribbin and Serinthy 
Ajin, and went over. 

When we opened the big barn door, what a 
sight we see ! . . . Wall, to cut a long story 

short as possible, Mister Gribbin had pervided 
imprompty refreshments out there for the m'en, 
consistin’ of what odds and eends he could pick 
up at the store acrost the street ; sardeens, 
crackers and cheese, nuts and raisins, and I 
dunno what all, to eat, and somethin’ ter drink, 
besides; I can’t tell you jest what, but that it 
was of an intosticatin’ nater I felt sartin’ the 
minute I set eyes on Hannibal ! 

When Hannibal see me, he got up off’n the 
nail-kag he was settin’ on, and come rollin* 
towards me. 


124 MB, AMD MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


“ New barn ! fine new barn, Euth Ann ! ” says 
he, wavin’ his arms in all directions like a win’ 
mill, “ fine new barn — and we’re all goin’ to vote 
for Gribbin in November — every man on us, 
’publicans and — and sinners! Hooray!” says 
he. 

I stood there a minute, leanin’ up ag’in’ the 
door and takin’ in the seen. There they was, all 
in a similar condition to what Hannibal was, if 
not more than similar, and they was shakin’ 



hands with one ’n’ ’other, and blowin’, and 
pledgin’ themselves for Gribbin. 

“ We’ll vote for Gribbin ! Good feller — treated 
us like gen’lemen ! ” they says, and so on and so 
forth. 

Yes, Mister Gribbin had managed to turn our 
blunder to his own advantage, and I hadn’t a 
doubt but he’d be ’lected come November by an 


MR, AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 125 


overpowerin’ majority! And, thinks I to myself, 
“I dunno but he desarves it, for he’s done re- 
markable well (barrin’ the objectionable nater of 
the drink he pervided). 

I ’sisted Hannibal to put on his coat and vest, 
and Mis’ Hackett hunted up Ezry and done the 
same by him, then we locked arms with ’em, re- 
spective, and went home. 


CHAPTEE X. 


Hannibal’s litekaey fuky. 

You remember the ‘‘ Eegimunt ” that Doctor 
Bonder and me got up for Hannibal that time 
when he had, or thought he had, the dyspepsy ? 
Wall, it wa’n’t more’n a month after Car’line was 
married that he had another queer spell en- 
tirely different from that one. He didn’t seem 
ter complain of no bad feelin’s nowheres, didn’t 
mention his tongue nor liver, and e’t and slep’ as 
well as usual, fur’s I could see. His principal 
symptim ’peared to be absent-mindedness — went 
’round all the time in a kinder brown study, as 
you might say. 

I watched him and waited for quite a while, 
hopin’ he’d come out of it all right without re- 
sortin’ to the “ Eegimunt ; ” but bimeby I begun 
to be really scairt, and one forenoon (it was a 
Tuesday, I remember, and I was ironin’) I made 
up my mind somethin’ had got to be done to once. 

That mornin’ I speak on, he left off his work (in 
the middle o’ the forenoon, mind ye) and come 
loppin’ along inter the kitchen and threw himself 
down in the great rocker, leanin’ back, and there 


MB. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 127 


he set ’pearently meditatin’, for all the world, as if 
there wa’n’t nothin’ else ter dew. 

I left my ironin’ and went over to him and laid 
my hand on to his shoulder. 

.“Now, Hannibal Hawkins,” says I, quiet, but 
firm as Monadnock, “ tell me this instant what is 
the matter of you ? Be you sick ? Have I got to 
go’n git out that ere ‘ Eegimunt ’ ? ” 

“ No, you hain’t ! ” he snaps, rousin’ up, terrible 
wide-awake ; “ I ain’t sick — hain’t thought o’ bein’. 
Can’t a man have no — no aspire-ations — no ” 

“ No what ? ” says I, very severe. I was afeared 
but his mind was wanderin’. 

“ No aspire-ations, no ambitions,” he repeats, 
as bold as you please. “You don’t understand 
me anyway, and never will,” he continnered, look- 
in’ abused like. 

I must ’a’ blushed at this accusation o’ his’n, 
for it was the truth and I knew it. I didn’t un- 
derstand him. He was alwers takin’ me onawares 
on one tack or another ; but I didn’t see as it was 
my fault. 

“ Mebby it’s so,” says I, meek as Moses ; “ but I 
never was married to a man before, and hain’t had 
much experience with ’em.” 

“ Seems ’s if you might profit more by your 
privileges now,” he grumbled. “ It’s nice and 
comfortable for a man like me to be threatened 
with a ‘ Eegimunt ’ of pills and shower-baths every 
time he looks crossways or gits an idee into his 
head — nice, ain’t it ? ” says he, sarcastic. 


128 MB. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS, 


“ Hannibal,” says I, “ have you really got an 
idee ? ” Then, with a little coaxin’, he went on to 
explain how that ever sence we visited in Bohemy 
and see all them edicated and literary folks, and 
heard ’em talk books and writin’, he’d had longin’s 
and aspire-ations to dew somethin’ of the kind 
himself, and how that finally he’d made up his 
mind that he must write a story, or he shouldn’t 
never be satisfied and contented. 

Of course, I was all took down to once. I knew 
he was alwers dewin’ the onexpected, as it were, 
but if he’d told me he’d murdered a man and hid 
him under my bed I shouldn’t felt a mite more 
surprised, and I s’pose I shewed it in my face, for 
he seemed mad and stuffy like at the way I took 
it. 

“ I dunno why you sh’d be so terrible thunder- 
struck,” says he. “ What is there so tarnation on- 
likely in the idee of me writin’ a story, hey ? You 
can write bags o’ poitry, but the minute I under- 
take ter write a story you set down on it ! ” 

“ Who’s set down on anythin’ ? ” says I, rallyin* 
up with all my might ’n main. ‘‘ Naterally, my fust 
thought was that story writin’ wa’n’t exactly in 
your line of business — the punkin-sifter business, 
you know,” says I. “But if you’re in ’arnest 
about it, go ahead, and good luck to you; no- 
body’ll be prouder of ye than what I shall,” says 
I. 

Now, what could be more encouragin’ ? But 
Hannibal seemed fur from satisfied. 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 129 


‘‘Yes, ye-as,” says he, rubbin’ his head, and 
squirmin’ ’round in his chair awful oneasy, “ yes ; 
but, er — er — how in nater shall I begin? What 
shall I call the — the story ? ” 

“ Why, that would depend a good deal on what 
it’s goin’ to be about ? ” says I. 

“’Twouldn’t, nuther!” says he. “I want a 
takin’ title, anyway — the title’s half. Somethin’ 
like ‘ Jinks’es Baby,’ or so, you know.” 

“ But hain’t you no subject in view ? ” I asks. 
“ Ginrally, when folks write stories, they have 
some idees weighin’ heavy on their minds.” 

“ N — o, I dunno’s I’ve got any — that is, none in 
partick’lar,” says he. 

I went back to my ironin’ to once. 

“ Then my advice is that you give it all up and 
go about your legitermit business — the punkin- 
sifter business,” says I. 

“ And I say I won’t ! ” he answers, terrible 
spunky. “ I’m goin’ to write a story, and you’re 
goin’ to help me, ’n that’s all there is tew it ! ” 

Wall, the upshot on’t was that we put our 
heads together and set about it, for, though I 
didn’t actewally ’prove on’t, I wa’n’t goin’ to have 
Hannibal say that his wife didn’t encourage him 
in his undertakin’s. 

We concluded to let the title go ’till after the 
story was writ. 

“ Who wants to name a child ’fore it’s borned,” 
says Hannibal, and I thought it was a sensible 
remark. 


130 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


“Now, mind ye,” he continners, “there ain’t 
g-oin’ to be no nonsense ’bont this ere story — no 
fayries, nor gosts, nor sicolergy, nor — nor re- 
ligion ; it’s goin’ ter be a common-sense story — all 
killin’ common-sense — now, I tell ye,” says he, 
bangin’ the table with his fist. 

“ All right,” says I, and I got some paper and 
a pencil, and set down, and begun ter bite the end 
o’ the pencil and think. 

“ Wall,” says I, “ where shall we have her 
live ? ” 

“ Her ? Who ? ” says Hannibal, lookin’ wild. 

“Why, the girl — our heroine.” 

“ Oh ! would you have her a girl ? I dun- 


“ Of course,” says I ; “ what can you say that’s 
interestin’ about a man ? ” 

“ But this is goin’ to be common-sense, you 
know,” he argered. But finally he give in. 

“ Let her be a girl, I don’t care ; only she must 
be a smart girl, and a likely girl, or I won’t have 
nothin’ ter dew with her,” says he. 

I won’t undertake to tell jest what parts Hanni- 
bal made up, or what he didn’t ; we wTit it in 
comp’ny, and I guess like enough half the fun to 
the reader will be in guessin’ who writ what. 

This is the story : 

Elizy Jane Muggins was the handsomest girl in 
Ticonderogy. She had blue eyes and gold-colored 
hair, and a good sound set o’ teeth in her head> 



EUZy JANE MUGGINS. 

















MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 131 

and a figger that didn’t need no C. P. corsets to 
fetch it inter shape. 

She wore clean calico g*owns every day, and aler- 
paccer to meetin’ ; and she could comb her hair 
and g*it ready to go to meetin’ in five minutes by 
the clock, and look the best of any girl there, 
too. 

She sung in the quire and led the treble. She 
had a beautiful voice and could read notes as fast 
as she could sing ’em. 

A young man, the son of a millionair in New 
York City, was workin’ at Square Noddledemains 
the summer that our story opens. His name was 
J. A. Henery Yanderhopper, and he was workin’ 
out, because he was desirous of ’aimin’ the money 
to buy him a “ Safety ; ” he wa’n’t obliged to work 
for a “ livin','' of course. 

He was a magnificent specimen of a man, Henery 
was, six feet in his stockin’s if he was an inch, and 
broad in perportion. He had an eye like a hawk, 
and — and everything to match. (Hannibal said 
this.) And he was smart to work ; there wa’n’t a 
lazy bone in his body. He sung in the quire tew, 
headed the tenor, so he and Elizy Jane happened 
to set side by side on Sundays, used the same 
hym’-book and e’t peppermints out of the same 
paper bag. 

Now if these ere two young folks ain’t as likely 
and interestin’ a two as anybody could ask, I’d like 
to know where you’d find ’em. (I told Hannibal 
he’d better not say that ; better leave the readers 


132 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS, 


to judge for themselves ; but he said there was a 
good chance to “ clench their interest,” and he was 
goin’ to do it.) 

Wall, as a nateral consequence, ’fore long, bein’ 
throwed into society together, they fell dead in 
love with one’n ’nother. The fust they knew 
mebby they’d be singin’ away for all they was 
wuth a Sunday mornin’, some sech hymn as “ Wel- 
come, delightful Day,” or, ‘‘ Oh, where shall rest be 
found ? ” and all to once they’d happen to glance 
into one’n ’nother’s eyes, and then they’d color up, 
and their voices would tremble so’s’t old Bijah 
AVilkins, the fust bass, would notice and turn to 
look at ’em over his great blue goggles. (Bijah 
had weak eyes, you know, and wore goggles all 
the time.) 

Here Hannibal stopped me short. 

“ Euth Ann,” says he, “ the way we’re headin,’ 
we’re workin’ it into a reg’lar love story and noth- 
in’ else ! And didn’t I tell you I was goin’ to 
have it common-sense *? ” 

“ But you can’t have a story about two young 
folks without any love in it ! What in the world 
be you a-thinkin’ of ? ” says I. 

“ I loill have a story without any love in it, or 
’less I won’t have none at all ! ” says he ; “ and 
now you jest go back and scratch out all that 
nonsense, and we’ll see what next.” 

“ But, Hannibal,” says I, “ it can’t be done ! 
We’ve fetched them two young folks together, and 


MB. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 133 


HOW we’ve got to let ’em fall in love ! What else 
can they dew that’s wuth tellin’ to the readin’ 
public ? ” 

Hannibal set thinkin’ and scowlin’ awful ’arnest 
for some time ; but finally he fetched his fist down 
on the table with a thump, and says he : 

“ I ivonH let ’em fall in love. I’ll— I’ll kill ’em 
fust ! ” 

“ But the mischief was done in the beg-iniiin’,” 
says I, “ when we let ’em set in the quire tog-ether, 
and eat peppermints out of the same bag. They’ve 
fell in love a’ ready.” 

“ What ! so quick ! ” says Hannibal, lookin’ dis- 
gusted enough. 

“ Ondoubtedly,” I answers, carmly. 

“ Then I won’t have nothin’ more to dew with 
’em!” says Hannibal, gettin’ excited, “the silly 
gumps ! Can’t they set in the same meetin’-house 
without failin’ in love with one’n ’nother ? ” 

“ Not if they was made for one’n ’nother, Hanni- 
bal,” says I. “ No, I s’pose it would be contr’y to 
nater.” 

I set wriitin’ with pencil suspended in mid-air. 
“Wall, what next % ” says I. 

“ Nothin’ 1 ” snaps Hannibal, jumpin’ up out of 
the rocker, and givin’ it a savage kick, “ we’ll 
write a hear story when we write any. But I tell 
you what, Buth Ann, it ain’t a good thing for a 
man to st^qi one side from his legittermit busi- 
ness.” ^Hidn’t I say so to begin with ?) 

“ Don’t never ask me to write any more stories I ” 


134 : MB. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


{I ask him /) “ Makin’ punkin sifters is the best 
business for me ! ” says he, and I didn’t dispute 
him. 

But, all the same, I’ve g-ot interested in them 
two young* folks, and I sha’n’t rest easy till some- 
body takes hold and finishes up the story we com- 
menced, and tells how they came out. 



, 1 


CHAPTEE XI. 


COUSIN folly’s visit. — SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA IN 

TIME OF A BOOM. — THE BED-LOUNGE. — THE COT- 

BED, ETC. 

About this time Cousin Polly Parker made us 
a visit. Her home was at Darby Corner, but 
when I was married she was way out in Cali- 
forny, and so couldn’t be at the weddin’. In 
p’int o’ fact, I hadn’t seen her for a number o’ 
years, and a good deal had happened mean- 
whiles. I had changed my state o’ single bless- 
edness for one of matrimony, and she had trav- 
elled six thousand mil’ds or more (ain’t it ?) to 
Californy and back. 

She was there in the time of a big real estate 
boom, and what she told me about it was so in- 
terestin’ that I feel as if I wanted everybody else 
to hear and know. 

I thought it was queer, her goin’ so, solitary 
and alone, and I says to her the fust thing : 

“ Polly,” says I, “ do tell us what started you 
up to go way off out there — to the eends o’ the 
airth, as you might say ? ” 

“Wall,” Polly answers, “I had worked pretty 


136 MB. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


stiddy at my trade for a good many year (she 
was a tailoress by trade), and after mother died 
there wa’n’t nothin’ bindin’ ter keep me, and 
money wa’n’t much object — you know I’d got to 
be consider’ble forehanded for Darby Corner, 
and didn’t really need to work for a livin’ any 
longer. But I shouldn’t never thought of sech a 
thing as pullifi’ up stakes and goin’ to Californy, 
if it hadn’t been for ’Mandy Hammond, she that 
was ’Mandy Plimpton. 

You see, me and ’Mandy was old friends and 
schoolmates, and alwers set everything by one 
’n ’nother, and ever after she went out to Cali- 
forny and got married and settled down, she 
didn’t give me no peace. ’Cordin’ to her tell, 
she and her husband was makin’ money hand 
over fist, and nothin’ to dew, but I must come 
out and try my luck. 

She kep’ writin’ and writin’, till, finally, I 
made up my mind I’d go out and visit her and 
look round, anyway. 

This was when the great boom in Southern 
Californy was at its height, and thinkin’ I might 
want to invest my money there, I sold the old 
place so’s to git all I could, took out what I had 
in the bank, and started, bag and baggage. 

After bein’ nine mortal days on the road, I 
’rived in the city of Los Angeles, and thankful 
enough I was, you’d better believe ! ” 

“ Excuse me, Polly, for interruptin’;” says I at 
this p’int, “ but I wish you’d jest pernounce that 


ME. AND MRS, HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 137 


word agin. I hear it called every which way, 
and should be glad to know what they call it out 
there.” 

“ I dunno,” says Polly, ‘‘ I couldn’t never 
settle on to no way in partick’lar. I heard it 
called all ways : “ Los Angylis and Los Angy- 
lees, Los Anglis and Los Angloss — s’pose there 
is a correck way, and if words have any feelin’s 
or senserbilities, how that ’ere poor word must 
squirm and suffer, to be so mauled and mangled ! 

Wall, when I ’rived in that city — whatever you 
call it — I found I’d got to stay there all night, 
couldn’t git no further till next day, so, tired as I 
was, I had to go’n hunt up a lodgin’. 

I didn’t want to spend my money payin’ big 
prices to a hotel — reckoned I’d ruther keep it to 
invest in real estate, ye know. I had a good 
deal of diffikilty in findin’ a cheap lodgin’, but did 
at last strike one for 25 cents. And by the way, 
they call 25 cents two hits in Californy, I dunno 
why, ’less it is to show their contemp’ of money. 
We think a quarter of a dollar is quite a sum of 
money, don’t we ? 

The lodgin’ I found was a little ways out in the 
subbubs of the city, and it was in a water tank ! 
It was a round-shaped struct er about as big as a 
small house, and they’d fixed up sleepin’ places in 
it to rent, the city was so full of folks. 

Of course, I didn’t sleep in where the water 
was, and they promised me faithful, that they 
wouldn’t turn it on in the night, and wet me 


138 MR, AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS, 


down — and they didn’t. I had a good night’s 
sleep and came out all right in the mornin’. I 
found they lodged folks most anyhow and any- 
where, in Californy, them days. Some said they 
even rented their door-steps, and door-nobs, but I 
guess that wa’n’t exackly so. 

The next day I took the cars and went on to 
where ’Mandy and her husband lived. Lordsburg 
sartinly wa’n’t much of a place to look at then, 
but it was boomin’ way up, and all the citizens 
everdently expected they’d live to see it a big 
city, and to see themselves all millionaires and 
millionairesses. 

It was in the month o’ November that I got 
there, and what I see was a great, arid, barren 
plain, kivered with sand — no, with dirt, powdered 
dirt — and standin’ round on all sides of this ap- 
pearent desert was a double row of mountains, 
tremenjus big ones the back row was, and the 
front ones (foot-hills they called ’em) was smaller. 

I’d heard a good deal ’bout the Californy hills ; 
but, as I wrote home to the Darby Corner folks, 
’tain’t much use a tryin’ to describe ’em ; you’ve 
jest got to see ’em for yourselves in order to ’preci- 
ate and understand. Nothin’ whatever growed on 
’em, as fur as I could see ; not a single tree nor 
spear o’ grass — not even a huckleberry bush ! 
They was as bare and bald as — as the top o’ Major 
Hawkinses head! But I found they could look 
beautiful, all the same. It was wonderful the dif- 
ferent colors they would take on, and seemin’ly no 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 139 


two times alike ! ’Mandy said how their changin’ 
colors so was owin’ ‘Ho the atmosferic effecks ” on 
to ’em, but I told her I guessed natur’ had as much 
to do with it as anything. 

“ I was dretful homesick for a while after I got 
to ’Mandy’s. Everything was so different, and I 
missed everything and everybody that I’d been 
used to in Vermont. And oh! how I hated the 
dust and dirt, and the shif’less Californy ways ! 

Finally one day I had a good cryin’ spell, and 
told ’Mandy jest how I felt, and said right out that 
I “ wished ter massy I hadn’t a come 1 ” ’Mandy 
didn’t say much of anything at the time, but ’long 
in the afternoon she hitched up the horse and 
asked me if I didn’t wanter go a buggy ridin’ ; 
that’s what they call it out there. 

Wall, she took me through a great vineyard, 
of I don’t know how many acres, where there was 
grapes enough growin’ to supply the hull State o’ 
Vermont, and she give me all I could eat — seek 
grapes they was ! Then we drove through the 
vineyard, a quarter of a mil’d or so in length, 
where the road was bordered on both sides with 
the harnsomest roses and geraniums I ever see I 
She filled my lap with fiowers, and we started 
home bj^ way of the foot-hills. 

I thought I’d seen them mountains look all 
ways, but it did seem as if a miracle of beauty 
was bein’ performed onto ’em, that night, for 
my special benefit 1 It was jest sunset, and at 


140 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 

fust the hull range of hills, big and little ahead 
on us, seemed flamin’ in fire and blood ! Then 
gradewally, this terrible red changed to the soft- 
est kind of pinky gray, and in a few minutes it 
begun to creep, creep in a cloudy haze, all down 
around everything, till the mystery and the glory 
on’t fell on us ridin’ along in the buggy ! 

I never shall forgit how it ’fected me to my 
dyin’ day ! I dunno what it was, it might ’a’ been 
nothin’ in the world but “ atmosferic effecks.” I 
don’t care, it was beautiful anyway, and soft and 
winnin’, and somehow I felt jest as if me and Cali- 
forny had kissed one’n ’nother and made friends, 
and I’ve loved her ever sence ! 

But as I have said, things is very different in 
Califomy from what they are here in New Eng- 
land. My land ! I guess they be ! To begin with, 
in New England there seems to be alwers plenty 
o’ room in the house, but in Californy what room 
there is, is mostly out doors. 

In the last letter I got from ’Mandy before I 
started, she writ how that they had jest built ’em 
a bran new house, and should be all settled down 
into it by the time I come. But picter my sur- 
prise, when I got there and found out they hadn’t 
got no spare chamber in that new house ! 

There was jest four rooms down- stairs, and 
none up-stairs — in p’int o’ fact, there wa’n’t any 
stairs ! There was a kitchen, dinin’ -room, set- 
tin’-room, and one bed-room, where ’Mandy and 
her husband slep’, and that was all — every single 


MB. AND MB8. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 141 

room ! And wlien I see how it was, thinks I to 
myself, “ Oh massy sakes ! where be I a-goin’ to 
sleep ? Only one bed for three on us ! ” thinks I. 

You know, Ruth Ann, I’d come fur, and fagged 
through with a good deal, sence I left home, and 
was completely tuckered out, and I’d been lottin’ 
on a good night’s rest when I got to ’Mandy’s, 
but now there didn’t seem to be much show for it. 

More’n all, I felt mortified to think I’d come 
in upon ’em, sitiwated as they was — seein’ they 
hadn’t got their up-stairs part built yet — and so 
bimeby, when it come along nigh bed-time, I takes 
’Mandy one side and says to her, real delerkit, 

“ ’Mandy,” says I, “ as long’s the spare chamber 
ain't quite finished, I dew hope you’ll feel free 
to put me most anywheres. I ain’t at all par- 
tick’lar,” says I, though I thought to myself it 
would make plaguy little difference if I was, so 
fur’s the bed-room was consarned. 

But ’Mandy wa’n’t ruffled a mite ; she smiled as 
carm as a clock, and says she, ‘‘ Don’t you worry, 
Polly, Tve got a hed-lounge!" ‘‘Oh!” says I, “I 
wanter know ? ” for, Ruth Ann, I never see sech a 
thing in my life before, though I find they’re 
common enough in the cities here to home, but 
in Californy they’re univarsal, as you might say. 
Wall, ’Mandy called my ’tention to her sofy, jest a 
common sofy, I took it to be, but by performin’ 
some kind of mechanikle operations on to it — 
lettin’ down somethin’, and pushin’ in and pullin’ 
out somethin’ else, sure enough, there it was, as 


142 MB. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


harnsome a bed as I ever set eyes on tew, and big* 
enough to ’commodate a middlin’-sized family! 
I was dumf oundered ! 

“ This ’ere is a spare chamber in a nut shell, ain’t 
it ? ” says I, and it was complete, no mistake! 

Wall, I slep’ on that ere contrivance all the time 
I was to ’Mandy’s house, and I must say, I consider 
the bed-lounge one of Californy’s choicest insti- 
tootions. Yes, and the foldin’-bed and the cabi- 
net bed, too ; they’re all excellent subterfuges for 
the geniwine bedstid that takes up more room 
than most folks have to spare — in the house — as I 
said, there’s plenty o’ room out-doors. 

Sence I’ve begun on this subjeck of beds, I may 
as well finish it, I guess. It took me some time 
to git acquainted with ’em all. After I’d staid to 
’Mandy’s house a couple o’ weeks and got nicely 
rested, I felt inclined to start out and see the 
country. ’Mandy had an uncle down in San Di- 
ego, so she said, she’d go there with me and 
make a little visit. It was two hundred mil’ds 
or more from Lordsburg, but la ! they don’t think 
anything of goin that fur out there. San Diego is, 
next to Los Angeles, the biggest city of Southern 
Californy, and it was boomin’ way up — but I’ll tell 
you more about the boom some other time. 

That fust night after we got to Uncle Williams’s, 
we was all settin’ in the parlor. It was a master 
harnsome room, with lace curt’ins and portyairs, 
and a good many fixin’s I didn’t pertend to know 
the names on. But I thought the orgin, or the 


MB, AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 143 


seraphim, as we called ’em up home, was an on- 
common, nice-lookin’ one, and as I said, we was 
settin’ there, and bimeby when the conversation 
kinder flagged down, I looked toward the sera- 
phim and says : 

“ Won’t somebody play ? ” 

‘‘ Play ? ” says Uncle William ; ‘‘ play what ? ” 
“Why play on the instrument— the seraphim, 
or whatever you call it,” says I, p’intin’ to it. 

Oh ! how Uncle William laughed, and how 
they all laughed ! Then Uncle William went and 
opened that piece o’ furnitoor and showed • me 
a nice bed — matrass, pillars, and all, and says 
he: 

“There, Polly! there’s your seraphim turned 
into what we call a foldin’ or cabinet-bed 1 ” 

I was. beat 1 “ I declare ter man 1 ” says I to 

Uncle William, “ you Californy folks can make a 
bed out of most anything, can’t you ? ” But after 
that I didn’t dare to give any strange piece of 
furnitoor a name till I’d slep’ in the room with 
it, at least one night, and found out for^sartin it 
wa’n’t no kind of a bed 1 

There’s one more bed that I got some ’quainted 
with in San Diego ; that is the cot-bed. As nigh 
as I can make out, this ’ere bed is calkerlated to 
take the place of the old-fashioned trundle-bed. 
You know, Euth Ann, how when we was children, 
they used to put us intew it, and kiver us up all 
but our little heads, and then run it way in under 
the big four - poster, where the growed - up folks 


144 ME. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


slep’. It was a pretty good bed for children, I 
guess, and so is the cot-bed ; but it don’t ’pear to 
be jest adapted to a full-growed, full-sized indivi- 
dewal — that is, not without piecin’, ye know. For 
either your head or your feet has got ter hang off, 
and by the time you find out which you’d ruther 
let hang, it is mornin’. Then, besides, I’ve no- 
ticed that bed-clo’es is dretful apt to be slippery — 
don’t seem to be much place to tuck ’em in, on a 
cot-bed, either — and folks hain’t got into the way 
of puttin’ buttons and button-holes on to their bed- 
clo’es yet, though they will, in time, I guess ; and 
when they dew that, and piece it out a foot or 
two at one eend, the cot-bed of Californy will be 
able to hold up its head with the bed-lounge and 
the cabinet-bed.” 

I couldn’t help laughin’. “La, now, Polly,” 
says I, “ how you dew set things out ! Of course 
it seems queer to us New Englanders, to see so 
much contrivin’ to save room in a house, but I 
dunno’ but what we’re jest as queer in goin’ to 
the other extreme. When we build a house, we 
’low always for at least two rooms mor’n we 
want ; that is, for two that we know will be shet 
up nine-tenths of the year. These rooms is, viz., 
namely, the parlor and the spare chamber. 

The parlor is ginerally sitiwated on the north 
side of the house, and we don’t run it in the win- 
ter, ’less there’s a funeral or a weddin’, but in the 
summer time, if we are expectin’ company, we go 
in and roll up the curt’ins, brush down the spider- 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 145 

webs out of the corners, dust off the sofy and 
chairs, see that the family Bible, the album, and 
the poetry books is laid square on to the centre 
table, that the infant Samuel and all the other or- 
nyments on the mantletry shelf is shiny — then, 
when the company comes, we take ’em and shut 
’em up in there alone (perhaps with the album or 
the poetry books to look at), and we go off into 
the kitchen to git supper. Now ain’t that so ? I 
don’t say that you or I do it, or that everybody 
does, but ain’t it a common thing in New England 
country towns ? 

Wall, the other room, the spare chamber, is on 
the north side of the house too, up stairs, right 
over the parlor, and in the summer time, if the 
winders has been opened for a week or ten days, 
to air and dry it out, and if a body don’t mind 
sleepin’ on a feather bed, and if framed coffin- 
plates and picters of death-bed scenes don’t ’feet 
our spirits, we’re all right, fur’s I know, and stand 
a chance of gittin’ a fair night’s rest ; but how is 
it in the winter ? Polly Parker ! you know as well 
’s I dew, that rheumatiz and cramps and newraligy 
lurks in that damp feather-bed and in them damp 
sheets and blankits ! Y(5li know it would be fur 
safer to set up all night on the wood-box beside o’ 
the kitchen stove, than to resk your life and health 
in that spare. bed! 

There ain’t no better folks in the world than 
New England country folks, but in the name of 
humanity, I do say, we orter put our spare cham- 


146 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


bers on the south side of the house, and have 
somebody sleep in ’em once in a while the year 
round, in order to keep ’em fit for use when the 
company comes ! 

That’s what I said, and Polly agreed with me. 


CHAPTEK Xn. 


POLLY AND THE BEAL ESTATE AGENT. 

What astonished me more’n anything else in 
Californy, was the innumerable number of real 
estate offices, ’specially in San Diego. 

“ Why, massy sakes ! ” says I to Uncle William 
(he was ’Mandy’s uncle, he wa’n’t mine, but every- 
body called him uncle), “ massy sakes ! ” says I, 
‘‘they’re thicker’n the beer saloons in Chicago, 
ain’t they ? But how in the world do they all 
manage to live ? ” 

j And he answers : “ Live ? Off their commis- 
sions, of course.” 

i “ Commissions on what ? ” I asks. 

' “Wliy, on the land they sell,” says Uncle'^ 
William, laughin’. 

“But it don’t seem as if there could be land 
enough — not in all Californy — when it’s divided 
up ’mongst ’em, to give ’em all a livin’ ! There’s 
sech an everlastin' raft of ’em ! I feel anxious 
about ’em,” says I ; “ they’ll git the land all sold 
dretful quick, and then what’ll they dew ? They’ll 
hafter go to the poor farm, fur’s I know.” 

“Anybody’d know you was from New England,” 


148 MB. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


says Uncle William; ‘‘your idees is sech, and 
you’re so easy scairt. I want you to understand 
that this ’ere is a middlin’ large-sized country, 
^nd there’s considerable land in Calif orny to 
handle.” 

Then he showed me the map, and called my 
’tention to the bigness of Californy, and I ob- 
sarved that quite a number of New Englands 
could be ’commodated comfortable inside of her, 
and ’cordin’ly I begun to change my tune as fur 
the other way. 

“Oh, dear me,” says I, “what a big country! 
what a 'mazin' big country I they won’t git it all 
sold ’fore the millenium, if they dew then 1 ” 

“Yes, they will,” says Uncle William; “I tell 
you the Californy real estate agents is rustlers / ” 

“ Hey ? Is what ? ” says I. 

“ Is rustlers," says he, “ don’t let the grass grow 
under their feet, you know.” 

“ Oh ! ” says I, “ I noticed there wa’n’t much of 
any grass in Californy — keep it wore down pretty 
close, do they? ” 

“ Yes,” says Uncle William ag’in, “ they’re ter. 
rible rustlers, these real estate men be,” and I 
found out that was so, sure enough. 

The very next day after my conversation with 
Uncle William, as I was goin’ along on Fifth 
Street, I happened to stop before one of them 
’ere real estate blackboards, and while I was 
readin*, careless, not thinkin’ much about what 
I was dewin’, an agent come to the door, smilin’ 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 149 

awful friendly, and p’intin’ to his blackboard, he 
says, 

“ Madam, there’s some bonny fidy barg’ins, and 
no mistake ! ” 

‘‘ Is that so ? ” says 1. “ Wall, I ain’t thinkin* 
of buyin’ to-day ; hain’t read half the blackboards 
yet — jest lookin’ round, ye know.” 

^ “ All right,” says he, smilin’ good-natered, but 
won’t you come in? Me’n my pardner will be 
glad to give you all the information we can.” 

He was a master nice lookin’, friendly ’pearin’ 
man, and I took tew him to once. I kinder sus- 
picioned he might be goin’ to “ rustle ” some, but 
I didn’t care if he did. All the rustlin’ in the 
world couldn’t make me buy, if I didn’t see fit 
tew ; so I answers : 

“I’m ’bleeged to ye, and I guess I will come 
in a little while.” 

They showed me their maps and diergrams, 
with all the city property and its additions and 
substractions, marked out on ’em, beautiful and 
plain as day. 

After I’d looked a spell, I told ’em how I’d sold 
out my property in Darby Corner, and how I 
might possibly invest in San Diego — eventewally, 
if not before. But I told ’em I wanted a barg’in, 
a bonny fidy barg’in ; nothin’ less would satisfy 
me. 

Wall, they was all wide awake and on their 
“ hee veev ” in a minute, and begun to rustle now 
in amest. 


150 ME. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


What kind of a lot have you got in mind ? ” 
says Mister Jones, the one that invited me in. 

“ Oh, a nice corner lot,” I told him ; “ one with 
plenty of parks and boolyvards and institootions 
of teamin’, and orange groves and vineyards 
under a high state of cultivation tew it — oh, yes ! 
and horse- cars runnin’ past the door.” 

I told ’em I wa’n’t partick’lar in other respecks, 
but these few p’ints I must insist ontew — oh ! and 
one thing more, it must be handy to the post- 
office (for I happened to think I’d got the job o’ 
gittin’ my letters out o’ that buildin’ — ^no light 
undertakin’ in time of a boom, I tell you). 

In reply to this, the agents said how some folks 
was onreasonable and wanted the airth, but they 
guessed there wouldn’t be no diffikilty in sootin’ 
me, and Mister Jones asked me on the spot if he 
should have the pleasure of takin’ me out buggy- 
ridin’ the next mornin’ to look at some extry nice 
property. 

I thanked him and told him I was agreeable, 
then I made ’em a kerchey apiece and went away. 

Wall, that agent come after me, bright and 
early. He had a nice kerridge and a s^Dankin’ pair 
o’ horses, with shiny harnesses on ’em, and he 
helped me in, and tucked the kivers ’round me as 
perlite as you please. 

I hain’t a word o’ fault to find with Mister 
Jones’s treatment of me that day. No young man 
takin’ his best girl out buggy-ridin’ ever waited 
on her harnsomer’n what he did on me. Why! 


MB. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 151 


he was more than perlite, he was confidin’, for 
bimeby, when we’d got along a piece, he told me 
how he was a widderer, and all alone in the cold 
world, and said he injoyed dretful poor health on 
’count o’ the catarr’, and when he took out his 
pocket-hank’chif and wiped his eyes, I declare ! 
Ruth Ann, I was almost ’fected myself. I should 
’a’ been quite, if I hadn’t happened to think of 
Bijah Coolidge jest then, and the sacred claims he 
had on to me, as it were. 

But I never let on ’bout Bijah to Mister 
Jones. I drawed down my face, and sighed 
heavy, and looked at him out of the comers of 
my eyes. I was jest thinkin’ what else I could 
do without actewally incouragin’ him, when he 
asks, 

“ Miss Parker, don’t you find the care of your 
property a great and overwhelmin’ burden ? ” 

“ Oh, dear me suz ! I guess I dew ! ” says I, 
though I couldn’t help addin’ to myself that I’d 
manage to lug it somehow, if it was consider’ble 
bigger! 

He couldn’t ’a’ looked more sympathizin’, if I’d 
■had the price o’ the hull of Darby Corner in my 
pockit ; but he didn’t say no more till we come to 
the hill where the property that he wanted to show 
me was sitiwated. 

Then he turned the kerridge round, so’s we 
could git a good view, and says he, 

“Now, if it is a residence you want, here is 
the place! High ground, splendid view, good 


152 MB. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


air, and plenty o’ room ! Look around you, Miss 
Parker ! ” wavin’ his hand. 

I looked where he waved. There lay the city, 
stretched out before us, and I must say it was a 
beautiful sight ! 

Whatever else is wrong in San Diego, there 
can’t never be nothin’ the matter with her nateral 
sitiwation, now I tell you ! I don’t care whuther 
it’s boomin’, or jest common every-day time ! 

In the language of somebody, I dunno who, 

There she lays, like a goddess, with her head on 
the hills, smilin’ up into the sky, dip pin’ her rosy 
toes in the waters of the bay, and extendin’ her 
fair young arms in welcome to all the world ! ” 

Yes, San Diego looked dretful nice down there, 
but it struck me as bein’ pretty fur off. 

“ How many mil’ds do you call it we’ve come ? ” 
says I. 

“By the road, which is dretful crooked and 
windy, I s’pose it’s ’bout eight mil’ds,” says he. 

“ And what is the price of these ’ere lots ? ” 

“ A thousand dollars apiece,” says he, “ and dirt 
cheap at that ! ” 

For the sake o’ say in’ somethin’, I remarked : 

“Wouldn’t it be ruther fur for the children to 
walk to school and to meetin’ ? ” 

“ Bless your heart ! ” he answers, “ the school- 
house, and the meetin’-house, too, will git up 
here long enough before the children will, I ven- 
tur’ ! ” 

“Wall, it’s too dear, anyway,” says I; “ain’t 


MR. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 153 


there some cheaper lots in the neighborhood — as 
it were % ” 

“ Oh, yes, plenty ! ” says he ; and we rode down, 
down, into an awful deep holler, so deep and shet 
in, that I couldn’t think of nothin’ but the crater 
to a Yolcaner, that I’d seen pictered once in a 
book. And sech a time as we had gittin’ there, 
plungin’ and pitchin’. I expected nothin’ but the 
horses would break their necks and our’n too, be- 
fore we got onto level ground. 

When we finally stopped, he p’inted out the 
lots, all staked and numbered, and referrin’ to his 
map, said I could have one o’ the best for six 
hundred dollars. 

I looked around me. I couldn’t see nothin’, ab- 
solutely nothin’, but the sky overhead, and a wall 
of land all round us. 

“ This ’ere is a wonderful freak o’ natur’, ain’t 
it ? ” says I to Mister Jones. “ I don’t mind 
cornin’ down here once, though it’s a dretful resk, 
but I should feel better if I had a balloon to ride 
out in, shouldn’t you ? ” 

He suspicioned I was makin’ fun on him, and 
he straightened up, stiff as a major, and says he : 

‘‘Miss Parker, I sollumly believe that in less 
than a year these lots will be occerpied, and cable 
cars will run from here to the heart of the city ! ” 

“ I wanter know,” says I, real serious, “ but don’t 
you think a balloon would be safer ? ” 

“ Then you don’t fancy these lots ? ” says he, 
mournful. 


154 MB. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


“ Why, no ; I believe I’d rnther live ’bove ground 
till I’m dead,” says I. “And on the hull, I dunna 
but I’d better invest my money in farmin’ land, 
somethin’ sootable for orange groves or vine- 
yards.” 

To tell the truth, Ruth Ann, the more I see of 
the boom, and of the land they was sellin’ at sech 
outrageous prices, the more I felt that there was a 
good deal of humbug about it, and I made up my 
mind that I shouldn’t invest my hard-aimed 
money in no sech property, not in time of a boom, 
anyway. 

But I was willin’ to look at it, and to ride ’round 
over the country in the enjoyment of Mister 
Jones’s company. 

Thinks I to myself, “ I don’t git a ride every 
day, and behind sech a pair of horses as these 
’ere.” 

So I told him I guessed I’d like some farmin’ 
land, thinkin’ pretty likely he’d offer to take me 
out into the country, where I hadn’t never been, 
and was longin’ to go. 

I says, “I run of a notion that I should like 
a vineyard of grapes out in some valley, where 
I could build a house, and so come and live 
every winter. Anyway,” says I, “ I mean to see 
all kinds before I buy — how do I know what I 
want ? ” 

“ All right,” says Mister Jones, tryin’ ter speak 
cheerful, though I could see he was disapp’inted 
to think I wasn’t sooted yit ; “ all right, to-morrow 


MR. AND MRti. NANNIE AL HAWKINS. 155 

1 11 take you out to see the best track of vineyard 
land that’s ever been put on the markit.” 

I forgit the name of that place, but it begun 
with an “ El ” or “ La,” and ended queer and 
poetical. Names is very different in Californy 
from what they be in the East, and they orter be. 
How would it seem to call San Diego, Boston, for 
instance ? I can’t bear to think on’t. 

Some say a rose, by any other name, would be 
jest as sweet, but I don’t believe it. Think of 
callin’ a rose a pickle, Euth Ann ! ’Tain’t reason- 
able nor ’propriate — of course ’tain’t ! I tell ye, 
there’s a good deal o’ heft in a name ! 

Wall, they got up an excursion to go to this 
new place, and they formed a kind of a percession, 
with a band o’ music to play to us, and lead the 
way. 

Mister J ones and I went with the same team we 
had the day before, and a charmin’ ride we had, 
too. When we got there, they give us a lunch of 
sandwidges and coffy, which was fust-rate and 
plenty of ’em ; then they was ready to show us 
’round. 

I wish I could describe that place to you, Euth 
Ann ! It lay down low and peaceful in a valley, 
and the sun shone in on to it dretful soft and 
warm. 

The air was sweet and spicy with the smell of 
the yeller voilits and the wild southern wood, or 
boys’ love, growin’ everywheres. For it was ’long 


156 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HA WHINS. 


in Feberwary, and that is spring in Southern 
Californy, you know. 

The medder larks was singin’ as if they couldn’t 
possibly hold in no longer, and everything seemed 
as fresh and bright as if it had jest been made ; 
or, at any-rate, as if it had jest waked up in the 
mornin’, as good as new. 

I found out there was an innumerable number 
of sech places in Californy, lay in’ jest as God 
made ’em. No plow nor harrer had ever perfaned 
their virgin sile, nor disturbed the kyoties and 
rabbits, and medder larks, that live in harmony 
and occerpy the land tergether, without stakes or 
boundry lines of any sort, and with no idee of the 
boolyvards, the vineyards and parks and corner 
lots of the futur’, harntin’ even their dreams. 

I declare ! it makes a person feel like Adam ’n 
Eve, or, at any rate, like Christofer Columbus, to 
set foot for the fust time in sech a spot ! 

While we was eatin’ our lunch, the band played 
— in fact, it played most all the time — and it 
played well, too. But jest before the sale of the 
lots begun, it did seem as if them musicianers was 
bent on overdewin’. Every one on ’em played jest 
as tight as he could put in. I didn’t see but the 
little horns made as much noise as the big ones, 
every mite and grain, and how they did pound on 
to the drums ! 

Ain’t it curi’s that whenever folks wanter inspire 
their feller-bein’s, or rouse ’em up to a pitch of 
dewin’ anything, they alwers play to ’em a while 


MB. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 157 


fust on a band o’ music ? You know, and I know, 
Ruth Ann, how inspirin’ it is. 

Before ’lection, what an important factor the 
band is to all the perlitical meetin’s. Seem’s if 
they depended on it to stir up the people full as 
much as they do on the speakers, don’t it ? 

And that afternoon, as true as I live, there was a 
p’int o’ time with mfe, when that band was playin’, 
that I felt my hard-aimed money was in critical 
danger. Yes, I felt so wrought up and reckless, 
that I had all I could do to keep from rushin’ 
for’ard, thr owin’ my wallet at Mister Jones’s feet, 
and sayin’, 

“ Here’s my money. Mister Jones ! Take it, as 
fur’s it’ll go ! I only wish I had enough to buy 
the hull State o’ Calif orny ! ” 

That’s the way I felt for a minute, then I seemed 
to hear a voice sayin’, 

“ Hang on to your money, Polly 1 ” and I was 
myself agin. 

Pretty soon Mister J ones come up to me, smilin’ 
and rubbin’ his hands. 

“ Wall, Miss Parker,” says he, ‘‘ which lot is it, 
or, ruther, how many % Have you made up your 
mind ? ” 

He had been so good to me, that I hated to 
blast his hopes, like pizen ; but I felt as if the time 
had come for me to speak out (you see I hadn’t the 
face ter go buggy-ridin’ with him to look at any 
more property), and so I dropt down my eyes real 
meachin’, and says I, “ Mister Jones, I’ve decided 


158 MR. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 

not to invest in Califomy land, I guess it’ll be 
better for me to keep my money where I can git 
hold on it when I wanter ” 

“ Seems to me it took you a good while to find 
it out,” growled Mister Jones, and I didn’t blame 
him a mite. I looked at him frank and friendly, 
and told him so, and says I, “ I wanter thank you 
for your kind attentions, and I’d gladly pay you a 
little somethin’ for the wear and tear of your 
horses and kerridge, and the strain onto your pa- 
tience — and your perliteness, tew,” says I ; “do 
let me.” 

Then the true sooperiority of the Californy gen- 
tleman riz up and triump’ed ! He laid his hand 
on his heart and made me a low bow, and says 
he: 

“ Miss Parker, I wouldn’t think o’ takin’ a cent. 
I consider the pleasure of your comp’ny sufficient 
compensation.” 

Euth Ann, did you ever ! 

And I kerchied down to the ground, and told 
him that I must say he was “ the best-natered, 
patienest, forgivinest man I ever see, and a per- 
feck gentleman — if he was a real estate agent ! ” 


CHAPTEK Xm. 


THE POST-OFFICE IN TIME OF A BOOM. 

Keep in mind, Kuth Ann, that it was in the 
time of a big* boom that I was in Californy, and the 
state o’ things that I see and experienced is proba’ly 
changed pretty thurrer by this time. I only tell 
what I see there then, and seem’s if I couldn’t real- 
ize how different everything must be sence the col- 
lapse, as you might call it. 

One of the most conspicewous featur’s or pecu- 
liarities of the boom was the state o’ things at 
the post-offices, ’specially in the large cities. The 
fust time I went down town after I arrove in San 
Diego, when I got as fur as F Street (one o’ the 
principal business streets), I see a long percession 
of folks, extendin’ half way or so up the street, and 
from there clear round the comer to Sixth Street. 
It was a tremenjous long percession and no mis- 
take, and seemed to be made up of folks of all kinds 
and sizes. There was white folks, colored folks, 
men and boys, women and children. They was 
standin’ stock still jest then, and they all looked 
completely tuckered out, as if they had come fur, 
and was stoppin’ to rest a while. 


160 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 

Some was leanin’ up ag^’in the side o’ the build- 
in’s, and some was settin’ on the door-stun’s, but 
whatever they done, I noticed they was alwers 
careful not to lose their places in the percession. 

Their faces looked so awful drawed down and 
solium, I naterally thinks to myself, it’s a funeral 
percession. When I got along up to the fag eend 
of the line, I asked one of the men as sympathiz- 
in’s I could : 

“ Who’s dead, and what did he die on ? ” 

He growled out somethin’ — ^^post-office’' was all 
I could understand. 

“ Oh, the pos’master is dead, is he ? ” says I ; 
“ must ’a’ had a good many friends — or, mebby, 
seein’ he was a public man, the hull city’s turned 
out to dew him honor ? Seem’s to me I skurce ever 
see sech a long funeral percession ! Wall, a good 
pos’master is a great loss to the kimmunity,” says 
I. 

When I said that, some laughed and some 
groaned. 

“ When did he die, and what added him ? ” I 
continners. 

“ Die I He ain’t dead yet. No sech good 
news ! ” spoke up the man I had fust addrested. 

“ Oh ! I wan’ter know. Mebby he’s very sick 
— ain’t expected to live, perhaps ? ” 

Upon this the man turned to me, fair and 
square, and says he, 

“ Young woman, in order to satisfy your curi- 
osity, let me inform you that the pos’master of 


MB. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 161 


San Diego is enjoyin’ his usual health, so fur as 
we know; all the wuss for us. WeWe the sick 
ones ; we’re sick as death, all on us, ain’t we, my 
friends ? ” turnin’ round and ’pealin’ to the rest of 
the mourners, and they all groaned dismal, in an- 
swer. 

I was naterally glad to hear that the pos’mas- 
ter wa’n’t dead, after all — wa’n’t even sick; but 
then I begun to feel curious and anxious, too, 
’bout the percession. 

“ Queer ! ” thinks I to myself, “ if they’re sick, 
what are they out here for ? ” And I says to the 
man, “ If you’re sick, why don’t you go home and 
nuss yourselves up — soak your feet and take a 
sweat — instid of standin’ out here in the cold ? It 
looks likely to rain, too. I declare ! ” says I, ‘‘ I 
hadn’t no idee there was so much sickness in San 
Diego at the present time ! ” 

I must ’a’ ’peared real anxious, for when I said 
that, a nice-lookin’ man stepped for’ard and lifted 
his hat respeckful, and says he, 

‘‘ Madam, I take it you’re a stranger in San 
Diego, and our post-office systim is unbeknown to 
you, perhaps ? ” 

“ It sartinly is,” says I; then he went on and 
explained how that all this percession of men, 
women, and children was waitin' for their mail 
matters, and how they’d stood there already a 
number of hours, waitin’ their turns to ask for let- 
ters at the winders, and he said the office would 
be shet up ’fore half on ’em got a chance. Then 


162 MR. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


they’d go home and git a little bite o’ somethin’ to 
eat, and come ag’in as quick as they could, and so 
they’d keep a-dewin’ every mail, day in and day 
out, and after all, never git their letters. 

“ Never git their letters ! ” says I. “ Why not % 
Who does git ’em if they don’t ? ” says I. 

“ The Lord only knows, ’less it’s the fishes in 
the sea ! It’s reported that they dump ’em in the 
bay, as the easiest way to dispose of ’em ! ” says 
he, gloomy. 

I was dumfoundered ! “ But I want to hear 

from my folks up to Darby Comer once in a 
while,” says I. “ To be sure, I hain’t left no par- 
ents nor children — no reg’lar blood relations, as 
you might say — but there’s them that I wanter 
hear from, that I must hear from ! ” says I to the 
man. (You see I was thinkin’ of Bijah Coolidge. 
Him and me had been keepin’ company for some 
time ; but, of course, I wa’n’t goin’ to let on to the 
San Diego folks about it.) 

Why, the idee of not gittin’ my letters made 
me mad as a hop ! Do you wonder at it, Kuth 
Ann ? 

“What do you hire your pos’master for, if it 
ain’t to give 3^ou your mail matters ? ” says I, in- 
dignant. 

“ Oh, we hire him to git red on ’em as he sees 
fit,” says the man, sarcastic and bitter. 

“ I’ll git my letters, or I’ll know the reason 
whj^ ! ” says I, and I went away. 

Wall, I called at the post-office pretty often 


MB. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 163 


after that; that is, I j’ined the percession, and 
called, if I got a chance and in the course of my 
goin’s and waitin’s, I made a number of ’quaint- 
ances, and got so interested in some of ’em, and 
sympathized with ’em so in their distress about 
their letters, that I didn’t think much nor care 
whuther I got any myself or not. I knew Bijah 
was all right ; or if anything should happen, he 
was ’bundantly able to telegraft, so I didn’t worry. 

But, as I say, there was them that I felt for. 
There was one little woman in partik’lar that I 
see most every day. She was a widder woman, 
and seemed to be in delerkit health ; but she was 
awful sweet and motherly lookin’ and had the 
gentlest, softest voice I ’bout ever heard. I give 
her my place in the percession invariable, if I was 
ahead on her, so we got to be real good friends, 
and she told me all about herself. 

She said how she had left her boy, her only son, 
to home in the East, and come out here alone for 
her health, because the doctors told her she 
couldn’t never stan’ another New England winter 
as she was, and a few months in Southern Cali- 
fomy might set her right up. 

She said it was out of the question for both on 
’em to come, on ’count of the expense, and at 
fust she didn’t see how she could afford to come 
herself. Then, for a good while, she felt as if she 
couldn’t come no way without Bobby. (Her boy’s 
name was Bobby, you know.) But at last, consid- 
erin’ that if she didn’t come, she would have to 


164 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


die, and so leave him for good ’n’ all, and seein’ his 
father was dead, and they two was alone tergether, 
and seein’ that he would need her more’n more 
every cornin’ year — as boys do, when they’re grow- 
in’ up to manhood — seein’ all this, she strained 
every narve, and decided to make the journey. 

So she scraped up what money she could, and 
left him, and come out to San Diego. She said it 
was like pullin’ eye teeth, for she and Kobby 
hadn’t never been parted before, not even for a 
night. But he was a manly little feller, full of 
grit, and when they come to say good-by, he tried 
to be brave enough for both on ’em. He promised 
her he’d write to her twice every week till she 
come home in the spring “ his strong, well, little 
mammy,” as he called her. 

“He never shed a tear, bless him,” says she, 
“not before me, anyway ; but if it hadn’t ’a’ been 
for the hope of them letters, and of the hold I 
should so keep on to him, I couldn’t never ’a’ done 
it, never ! My heart would ’a’ broke in the part- 
in’ ! ” says the little woman. 

Wall, it seemed when she fust got to San Diego 
she begun to grow strong right away, and the 
prospec’ was that she would go home well, jest as 
they had hoped. One week, two weeks, three 
weeks went by, and then she got her fust letter 
from Kobby. After that, though she writ faithful 
every Wednesday and Sunday, and knew Kobby 
done the same ’cordin’ to his promise, she didn’t 
hear ag’in ! 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 165 

The poor, little woman ’tended on that post- 
office like a dog, usin’ up all her strength in drag- 
gin’ herself back’ard and for’ard. She writ to 
Kobby to direct his letters to the house where she 
was stoppin’, and finally, when that didn’t make no 
difference, a kind friend left orders with the pos’- 
master to have ’em put in her box ; but still no 
more letters. 

In the room of gainin’ now, she begun to go 
down hill, and pretty soon she had to have a doc- 
tor. 

He said nothin’ in the world hendered her git- 
tin’ well, but jest pinin’ for them ’ere letters. 

Oh ! how my heart did ache for her I But what 
could I or anybody dew ? 

At last I got desperit, and one day I went 
down to the post-office and rapped at the back 
door. "When the man come, I says to him, 
“ Mister, be you the pos’master o’ San Diego ? ” 
and he draws himself up important, and answers, 
“ I be.” 

“ Then,” says I, ‘‘ I want to ask a great favor of 
you. I don’t come to ask for my own letters — keep 
’em, if you wanter, or give ’em to the fishes, for all 
I care ; but won’t you give me Mis’ Mary Davises’ 
letters from her boy, Bobby ? You must ! ” says I. 
“ Why, mister pos’master, she's dyin’ for them let- 
ters from little Bobby ! ” and I burst out cryin’, I 
couldn’t help it. 

But la ! he didn’t care no more’n as if he’d been 
a stun’ or a statu’. 


166 MB. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


“Round to the winder and take your turn, 
marm,” says he, wavin’ me away. 

“ I won’t,” says I ; “we can’t git nothin’ there 1 
nor nowhere’s else, and you know it ! ” 

He muttered somethin’ ’bout “ crazy lunytick ! ” 
and shet the door in my face. 

I come away feelin’ as if I’d like to batter his old 
doors down, and over- 
haul the contenks of that 
’ere post-office, and find 
out what was there, and 
what wa’n’t ! I won- 
dered the hull city did- 
n’t rize up and mob 
him, and all them lazy 
clerks of his’n. 

When Mis’ Davis had 
been in San Diego jest 
three months she took 
to her bed, and she never 
got up. Frettin’ and worryin’ about Robby was 
what done it. 

We telegrafted several times, and got answer 
back that he was all right, but when we brought 
the last one, and put it in her hands, she looked 
at it and smiled gentle and sad, then sighed, 
and says she, “ If it was only in Robby’s hand- 
writin’ ! ” 

That night, kind friends watched with her — me 
among the rest — and toward momin’ she died, 
with her boy’s name on her lips. 



MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 167 


Next day the postmaster handed over to me seven 
letters from Rohhy I They’d been layin’ in that 
post-office nobody knows how long-, and now 
they’d come, too late ! 

Wall! we laid ’em on her cold bosom — little 
good they’d do her now — and wondered what 
would become of Kobby 1 

I don’t wonder you cry, Kuth Ann ; I cry every 
time I think about that little woman and her boy ! 
Sometimes I’m a good mind to start and go down 
East on purpose to hunt him up, so’s to know for 
a sartinty how he’s farin’ sence his mar died. 

Yes, this was a real sad eppersode, and heart 
breakin’ enough, but it couldn’t ’a’ happened any 
time except durin’ a boom, and you mustn’t think 
that Californy folks, as a gineral thing, are like 
that ’ere pos’master. No, indeed 1 fur from it 1 
They’re the warm-heartedest, obligin’est folks I 
ever see I You can’t help lovin’ ’em if you try I 
I don’t say likin\ that ain’t half warm enough to 
express the feelin’. 

And socierty, ’specially in the cities, is different 
from ary other place I ever got intew. 

They don’t seem to care a snap whuther your 
gran’father and gran’mother come over in the ark 
or in the Mayflower, or whuther you hail from 
Darby Comer, or from the great city of Boston 1 

And generous I My land sakes I they’re too 
generous ter live I Why I San Diego is a perfect 
paradise for all kinds of beggars and tramps! 


168 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


Even the coachmen and draymen would haul up 
their horses to contribit, when the hat was passed 
around. 

In short, Kuth Ann, there wa’n’t much of any- 
thing the matter of Californy, as I found it, ex- 
ceptin’ the mud, and you can’t git ’round that — 
nor through it, nuther, ’thout loosin’ off your injy- 
rubbers ! ” 


CHAPTER XIV. 


COUSIN POLLY’S OIL-STOVE, AND HOW IT WORKED. 

They say the ile-stove is even more of a neces- 
situde in Californy than the bed-lounge, and I 
shouldn’t wonder if it was. Rich folks live there 
pretty much as they dew everywheres else, and 
have good, old-fashioned stoves and fire-places, 
and plenty of ’em, but the folks that are jest me- 
jum well off, and have a hankerin’ after corner 
lots, and ranches, and groves, and vineyards, out o’ 
perportion to their means, them are the ones that 
build their houses without chimbleys, and rent 
their rooms to poor delooded women, that come 
out there with the idee that all they need for their 
comfort is plenty of fancy work. 

And right here I must stop and free my mind, 
and remark that the average invalid goin’ to Cali- 
forny in search of health does act like a born fool, 
and no mistake ! There ain’t no common-sense or 
reason to her, it would ’pear. 

She goes out there an invalid, if not sick. She 
has weak lungs as a gineral thing, and instid of 
insistin’ on havin’ a room well warmed and well 
ventilated, she stives herself away into a cold 


170 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


room on the shady side of the house, and then she 
sets down to her paintin’ of Californy poppies or 
pepper-sprigs, or, if she’s only common artistick, 
to some new pattern of fancy-work borrered from 
a feller-boarder ; and she stays there from mornin’ 
till night, stitchin’, or paintin’ away, all the time 
with a pain in her chist or side, and gittin’ chilled 
through to her marrer bones. Then, when her 
cough grows wuss, she begins to think the climit 
don’t agree with her ! I dunno how any climit 
could, under the sarcumstances. 

Why ! Kuth Ann ! it seems almost wicked for 
folks to go out there and so slight the blessin’s 
that nater pervides ! I tell you there’s medicine 
in the Californy air and sunshine, and what a 
woman in s’arch of health orter dew, is to spend 
the heft of her time out doors, or if she must stay 
in the house, see that she has plenty of fresh air 
and sun let into her room, and above all, that she 
keeps warm. 

She may say she can’t afford to ride, and 
she hain’t able to walk, but if she’s able to set 
and dew fancy work all day, I say she’s able 
to walk, don’t you? Or, if she can’t walk fur, 
there’s alwers the street -cars. I was ’stonished 
to see how many milds they’d carry you for 
five cents ! 

Why, good land! Anybody might board and 
live on them cars, almost I Jest take along a 
lunch, you know, and by managin’ the transfers 
right, what’s to hender ridin’ from mornin’ till 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HA WKINS. 171 


night ? It would be enough sight better’n settin’ 
shiverin’, curled up in a cold room ! 

Speakin’ of cold rooms, if nobody wouldn’t hire 
a room without some kind of a heatin’ apparatus to 
it, folks would be obleeged to build more chim- 
bleys, even if they didn’t buy so many corner lots 
and so on. It would be better for the repertation 
of the Calif orny climit, and for folkses pockits too, 
in the end, I guess. 

But as things was, we had to dew the best we 
could. I persume it is different by this time, but in 
the time o’ the boom, ye know, rooms was in sech 
demand in San Diego, that we couldn’t git a decent 
one short of sixteen or eighteen dollars a month — 
jest one room — then there was your board, besides ! 

That’s what I paid, and no way to warm the 
room at that ! I had plenty of lace curt’ins and ile 
paintin’s, plenty o’ roses climbin’ over my win- 
ders, and views of the shinin’ bay of San Diego, 
but all them wa’n’t warmin’, and if it’s cold, it’s 
cold, whuther it’s in San Diego in time of a boom, 
or Darby Corner, or Punkinville, where booms 
never come. 

For a while I wropped myself up in shawls, put 
hot bricks to my feet, drunk ginger tea, and tried 
all kinds o’ subterfuges, in’ards, and out’ards as 
you might say, but they was fur from satisfactory, 
and finally one of my feller boarders told me I’d 
hafter git an ile-stove. She said ’most everybody 
used ’em — even cooked on ’em, and they answered 
every purpose complete. 


172 MB. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


So I went down town the very next day and or- 
dered one sent home on trial, tergether with all the 
et setterys to go with it, includin’ a can of ile. 

I persume you never see sech ilecans as they 
have there, Euth Ann ! I hadn’t never seen one 
before bigger’n a good-sized family coffy pot, 
holdin’ a gallon or two. But the one I bought 
was tremenjus big, and no mistake ! They hadn’t 
no smaller ones, and the man T bought it of said 
it was jest common size. It looked to me oncom- 
mon large size. It looked queer, too ! It was 
square, and reminded me of the average Californy 
cottage, without the door-steps to it. Unlike the 
Californy cottage, though, it did have a kind of 
a chimbley, where, I took it, the ile was to run 
out. 

Wall, when the man brought the things, I told 
him to leave ’em out in the back yard, where 
there was plenty o’ room, and I perceeded at once 
to reconnoiter the can for the purpose of fillin’ my 
stove. 

The spout, or chimbley I have mentioned, was 
sitiwated in one corner of the roof of the can, and ' 
it wa’n’t any bigger round than a pipe-stem. 

When I see it, I says to my friend, 

“ That ’ere ain’t much of a spout for sech a big 
consarn to have tew it, is it ? ” But I took hold 
of the handle and tipped the thing over one side, 
as well as I could. Not an identicle drop of ile 
run out ! 

Turn the wheel beside of the chimbley,” says 


MB. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 173 


my friend, and I done so, and sure enough the 
ile begun to run before I was really perpared for 
it, and it went all over my dress, and on to the 
ground. 

I managed to ease it up a little, and took the 
brass kiver off'n the hole in my stove, and aimed 
the spout at it. I thought I aimed it pretty well, 
but the ile seemed to be aimed all wrong, for it 
went everywheres promisc’ous, and my friend says 
ag’in, 

“ I guess you’ll have to fill a small can fust, then 
fill your stove from that.” 

I dropped the tin house down on to my toes, 
and says I, kinder mad, 

“ Why didn’t you say so, before ! ” says I, ‘‘then 
I might ’a’ saved my ile and my dress, and my 
disposishion, too ! ” says I. 

She got me a small can, and I aimed my spout 
at that, this time, and with some better success, but 
found that fillin’ even the small one was a work of 
time — I was goin’ to say of etarnity — for I never 
knew how long I stood there supportin’ of that 
great tin house with my knee, while the ile driz- 
zle, drizzled into the can (what didn’t go on my 
dress and feet !). I do know that every bone in 
my hull body ached like the toothache, and after a 
while I guess I kinder lost my consciousness, and 
jest stood there like a num’ statu’. 

But bimeby I come to, and revived up and be- 
gun to feel ruther out o’ patience. 

“ Why don’t they have a bigger spout ? ” says L 


174 : MR, AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS, 


‘‘ What’s to bender their havin’ one consider’ble 
bigger ? Is there any law limitin’ these ’ere spouts 
to the size of a pipe-stem, hey ? ” says I, wipin’ 
the prespiration from my face with my ily pockit 
han’kerchif. 

“ Oh, that’s the size they alwers be,” answers 
my friend, matter of fact. 

‘‘ I don’t see as that makes it any more senser- 
ble ! ” says I, sarcastic. 

Wall, when the can was a little more’n half full 
I thought I’d fill my stove. 

“ My trials is o’er, anyway, thank fortin’,” says 
I, drawin’ a long breath of relief ; but it wa’n’t so, 
no sech thing ! 

I lifted up the can and stiddied it on my knee, 
and begun to pour, but the ile didn’t come wuth a 
cent ! 

‘‘ Take off the kiver to your can ! ” says my friend, 
and I done so. I follered every single one of her 
directions obedient, and they worked well. I 
must say she understood the principles that ile-can 
was constructed onto fust rate. I hain’t got no 
head for sech things myself. If I was makin’ an 
ile-can, I should make it with dretful few princi- 
ples to it, and more spout and conveniences for 
dewin’ with. 

“ Be keerful not to fill your stovQ too full, or 
it’ll run over,” was my friend’s next remark, and I 
begun to grow anxious agin. I looked inside o’ 
that stove, and I see it was terrible dark ! 

How was I a-goin’ to know when it was full ? 


MM. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 1Y5 


Why ! if I’d been in there myself, I couldn’t ’a’ 
seen my hand before me ! It was as dark as the 
black hole of Calcutty, every mite and grain ! I 
begun to interrogate inter things ag’in. 

“See here!” says I, “ain’t there no way o’ 
lightin’ up in there — no gas, no ’lectricity? A 
taller candle would be better’n nothin’. Oh 1 if I 
only had one ray of light to tell me when it’s full!” 
says I. 

“ Oh, I guess you’ll know when it’s full,” an- 
swered my friend, onconsarned ; and sure enough 
I did, for in a minute I felt a wet stream cornin’ 
on to my feet, and I j edged the stove was full ! 

I never was so fond of the smell o’ karysene as 
some, and by the time I got the can and the stove 
cleaned up, I was most down sick. 

But finally, when everything ’peared to be in 
runnin’ order, I lit the stove, and looked at it and 
felt encouraged. It did look beautiful ; and, what 
was better, it begun to feel warm. 

Bein’ of a generous and hospiterble turn, I nat- 
erally wanted to share with my less fortinit fel- 
ler-boarders. ’Cordin’ly, I run out to invite ’em 
all in. 

They was glad and thankful enough to come, 
seein’ their rooms was all cold and comfortless, as 
it were; so they gethered up their fancy works 
and perpared to spend the afternoon with me. 

But when we come into my room ! — the stove 
was burnin’— oh, yes ! it hadn’t gone out— if it 
only had ! 


176 MR. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


Two black, cloudy pillars was risin’ from them 
two wicks, and the air was full of a thick, smoochy 
smoke that went down our throats and settled all 
over us, and all over everything* in the room ! 

My feller - boarders immejitly excused . them- 
selves, sayin’ they’d come another day. 

Fortinitly the friend that had advised me to 
make the investment had follered us in, and now 
I heard a voice through the soot and smoke, 
sayin’ : 

“ Turn down the wicks, you gump ! ” I managed 
to turn ’em down somehow, then I rushed out of 
the house, and went and set down under a pepper- 
tree and wished I was dead. 

My friend jined me pretty ’ soon ; she wa’n’t 
ruffled the leastest mite, and she says, carm as a 
clock : 

“I guess you turned the wicks up too high; 
you’ll know better next time.” 

Bein’ too beat out and discouraged to speak, I 
was dum’. 

The next day I sent my ile-stove and can back 
to the store where they come from, hunted up a 
room that had a chimbley in it, and hired it, and 
after that I lived in peace and comfort. 

Now, Ruth Ann, I don’t want you to think I’m 
one to go to Californy, and then come home and 
run down her favorite institootions. But the 
country is young and is goin’ to pergress, and 
when they git round to buildin’ more chimbleys to 
their houses, or to puttin’ winders into the ile- 


MR. AMD MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 177 


stoves, and patent securities aginst smokin’, etc., 
and when somebody invents proper machinery for 
runnin’ the ile-can, I tell you the average boarder 
will enjoy life a good deal more than what she 
does now. 


CHAPTEE XV. 


“cae’line’s house waeming.” 

Cousin Polly made us a good long visit, and told 
us so much about Californy, and Californy ways, 
that I declare, it seemed most as good as goin’, to 
hear her. 

Jest before the time come for her to leave, 
we had a letter from Car’line, tollin’ us that 
she was goin’ to have a “house warmin’,” and 
invitin’ her par and me, and Cousin Polly to 
come and make her a visit, and so be there at 
the time. 

Car’line said how that in New York they called 
the kind of party they was goin’ to give a “ recep- 
tion,” but as it was the fust in their new house, 
and as they liked the old-fashioned ways and 
names, she and Eichard concluded to call it a 
“ house warmin’.” 

They invited all Eichard’s stylish friends in the 
city, and most everybody in Punkinville, though 
there wa’n’t more’n five or ten out o’ the hull lot 
that went. You see, a good many of ’em didn’t 
feel as if they could afford it, and some hadn’t 
never travelled ten mil’ds outside of Punkinville in 


MR, AND MRS, HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 179 


their lives, and wouldn’t think of venturin’ so fur 
as New York. 

Of course Car’line didn’t expect they’d all go, 
but she’d been glad to had ’em every one, and she 
wanted ’em to know it ; that’s why she invited ’em. 
But there was a few individewals that she was 
bound should go, anyway, so in her letter to her 
par and me, she mentioned them partick’lar ones, 
and charged us to see ’em personal, and urge it 
upon ’em strong. 

The names was Aunt Sally Baker (she that give 
Car’line the two pair o’ short-legged woollen 
stockin’s for a weddin’ present, you know), and 
Mis’ Plummer (she that give the butter). Deacon 
and Mis’ Deacon Baton, and Aunt Betsey Haw- 
kins that give the rag carp it, and that Car’line 
named the “Bowdoor” after. 

Now I want to tell you before I go any further, 
that Aunt Betsey Hawkins is jest the nicest old 
lady that ever lived! She’s poor as Job’s turkey 
in creatur’ comforts, or would be, if it wa’n’t for 
her friends, but she’s rich as Creesus in the love 
and gratitude of all around her. 

She’s spent the heft of her life in dewin’ deeds 
of kindness to other folks ; she hain’t never spared 
herself, nor her hard-aimed money, the leastest 
mite nor grain ; what was her’n was everybody’s 
else to command, alwers. 

She hain’t a selfish bone in her body. Often 
and often she’d work all day hard at her loom, 
weavin’ carpits, you know, and then set up all 


180 MR, AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


night with some sick or dyin’ person, and she’d 
give her last slice of bread or drawin’ of tea to any 
poor pedlar or tramp that come along. 

And it wa’n’t altogether what she done for folks, 
that made ’em set so by her, it was full as much 
her sweet and lovin’ and motherly ways. 

Nobody couldn’t never be so bad, but what Aunt 
Betsey would find good in ’em, and she could gin- 
erally bring it out, too. Time and agin, her kind 
advice and helpin’ hand has done more to reform 
the wicked and wayward in Punkinville than all 
Parson Bassett’s prayers and sermons and labor- 
in’s among ’em, and everybody knows it. 

So, naterally, every house and home was open 
and welcome to Aunt Betsey, and Car’line would 
’a’ been glad to had her come out and live with 
her for good. But Aunt Betsey run of a notion 
she’d ruther keep a home of her own. She liked 
to be independent as well as anybody, for all her 
gentle ways, and besides, I s’pose she was ’tached 
to the old place. 

The day that Car’line’ s letter come to us, she 
sent by express to Aunt Betsey a package, con- 
tainin’ a beautiful black silk dress pattern, with 
all the furnishin’s, a white lace cap, trimmed with 
lavendar colored ribbins, a pair of nice, easy shoes, 
and a pair of white silk mitts. To crown all, she 
pinned on to the mitts a bran’-new fifty- dollar bill, 
to hire the dress made and git any other little 
things she needed, and pay her expenses out to 
New York with, she said. 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 181 


You’d orter seen Aunt Betsey’s face when she 
opened that bundle, and see thein thing-s, and 
read Car’line’s note ! 

This was what Car’line writ : 

“Deae Aunt Betsey: — Kichard and I are goin’ 
to have a house warmin’, and would be glad to 
have all our friends come, but we perpose to make 
sure of you, to begin with, so we send you what we 
hope will pervent your havin’ any excuse for 
stayin’ away. 

“Now, don’t disappint us, will you? for you 
know it would spile the hull thing for 

“ Your lovin’ Cak’line. 

“ P. S. — I guess mar and Cousin Polly will go 
with you to see Miss Gibbs about the dress.” 

Wall, Polly and I did go with her to have the 
dress fitted, and we helped Miss Gibbs make it 
too, bein’ she was driv’ and didn’t see how she 
could do it jest then— wouldn’t, she said, for no 
livin’ woman but Aunt Betsey — and we all three 
took about as much interest in it as if it had ’a’ 
been our own weddin’ gownd. 

Aunt Betsey was very tracter’ble, and let us 
have pretty much our own way with it, only one 
thing she insisted on to. She said she must have 
her pocket where it belonged, in the right-hand 
side seam, so’s she could find her hank’chif or 
knittin’ without lookin’ all over creation after it, 
when like as not she was in a sufferin’ hurry for it. 


182 MR, AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


Of course it was the nicest dress Aunt Betsey j 
ever had. It must ’a’ cost a lot o’ money. It was 
a ’mazin’ soft, thick piece o’ silk, and it hung- jest 
elegant, and fitted her complete. Miss Gibbs said 
she never had better luck in her life, and when we 
put that dress on to Aunt Betsey, she looked as 
well as anybody — I don’t care if it’s Queen Yictdry 
herself. One thing was dead sure, she was harn- 
somer, and had enough sight better figger than 
Queen Victory ever had ! Aunt Betsey was as 
straight and erect as any young girl ; she wa’n’t 
a mite too fat nor dumpy, you know, and her face 
was beautiful. Seemed as if Old Time loved her 
as well as the rest on us did, and hatin’ to mar her 
dear old face with wrinkles and crows-tracks, had 
passed her by — proba’ly givin’ an extry lot to 
some other woman instid. 

Wall, we went together to New York, me and 
Hannibal and Aunt Betsey and Cousin Polly. We 
started about three days before the day set for the 
party, thinkin’ we might, perhaps, be able to help 
Car’line git ready, knowin’ how much cookin’ and 
cleanin’ and one thing’n ’nother there ginerally is 
to be done ’fore sech ’casions. Why, when ’Squire 
Bates’es folks had their house warmin’, I remem- 
ber me and mother both went over to help, and we 
and Mis’ Bates, all three, cooked and cooked, the 
hull of two days! Pies and doughnuts and cakes, 
and all kinds o’ meats. Oh, sech an everlastin’ 
lot o’ stuff! And there wa’n’t none too much, 
nuther. 


ifi?. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 183 


But when Polly and me put on our big* caliker 
aprons that mornin’ after we got to Car’line’s, and 
went down-stairs to help her, she smiled, and says 
she, 

‘‘ Oh, now ! How sweet of you to bring your 
big aprons with the idee of helpin’ me. But 
I shan’t need you; there really is very little 
to do. The rooms are all in order, ready for 
the flowerist, and as we are goin’ to have a ca- 
terer ” 

Jest then she was called out, and Polly and I 
stood starin’ at one another. 

“A house warmin’ and nothin’ to dew!” says 
Polly; “wall, I’m beat! Car’line is young yet, 
Kuth Ann, and I’m ’fraid she lacks calkerlation. 
I sh’d feel dretful mortified if this ’ere party 
shouldn’t go off well— if the nut-cakes or cookies 
should give out, you know. How Mis’ Gribbin 
and Serinthy Ann would crow ! ” 

I felt anxious, myself, to tell the truth, but I 
wouldn’t have nobody belittlin’ nor suspicionin’ 
Car’line nor Car’line’s calkerlation. 

“ I guess Car’line knows what she’s about,” says 
I. “ I’ll resk her, anyway. But, Polly, what’s a 
caterer ? ” 

“ I believe it’s a band o’ musicianers that sets 
somewheres out o’ sight, and plays to the com- 
pany while they’re eatin’,” says Polly. “And 
music is well enough, but all the music in the 
world wouldn’t Jill ’em up if the provisions fell 
short.” 


184 MR. AKD MBS. HANmBAL IIAWKIATS. 


I didn’t say nothin’, but when Car’line come 
back I took her one side, and says I : 

“ Car’line, now, if you hain’t g-ot everything 
cooked, and plenty of it, there’s nothin’ Polly and 
me’d like better than to go right to work ’long of 
your cook — you know what kind o’ nut cakes and 
cookies and pound cake your mar can make, don’t 
you, Car’line ? ” says I, real coaxin’. 

“ I guess I do ! ” says Car’line, givin’ me a kiss 
and a hug. “But, as I said, I’m all pervided 
for ; I’ve got the best ‘ caterer ’ in the city ” 

“ But, Car’line, child,” I interrupts, ‘'music ain’t 
everything ; they’ll want plenty to eat. Vittles is 
the main thing, after all,” says I. 

“ Of course,” says Car’line ; “ and Bilks will fur- 
nish everything bountiful, and waiters and dishes 
— oh, it will be all right, you’ll see ! ” 

“ But,” says I, “ Polly told me a ‘ caterer ’ was a 
musicianer, or a set o’ musicianers ” 

Car’line laughed. 

“ Oh, dear ! She must ’a’ been thinkin’ of an 
‘ orhestrer ’ (orchestra),” says she. “ A ‘ caterer ’ is 
a man that pervides food for entertainments, and 
takes all the responsibility, you know. ’Most ev- 
erybody employs ’em here in New York.” 

“ Oh ! I wanter know,” says I, feelin’ ruther 
sheepish ; “ but I don’t see how you can feel to 
trust your supper to a man ! I wouldn’t, not to 
no man livin’ ! ” says I. 

But Car’line only laughed and hugged me ag’in, 
and says she : 


UR. Am MRS. BAirmSAL SAWKim. 185 


“ Don’t you worry your dear old head ! You’ll 
find everything- will come out right.” 

And it did. My stars ! if Polly’s eyes and 
mine didn’t stick out to see them perperations 
goin’ on ! Polly says to me forty times, if she did 
once : 

“ Did you ever ! What vAll Mis’ Gribbin and Se- 
rinthy Ann say ? ” 

I thought the rooms was as pretty as they could 
possibly be before, but after that flowerist, or deco- 
rator, as they called him, had got done with ’em 
you wouldn’t ’a’ knowed ’em ! They wa’n’t rooms 
at all, any more, they was gardens, paradises ! 

Every mantletry-shelf was made into a bank o’ 
fiowers, and in every ’vailable space and corner 
great palm-trees and flowerin’ plants stood, jest as 
if they growed there, for all the world ! 

The table had a great bed of roses in the middle 
on’t, and sech a set of chiny, and sech glass and 
silver, and even gold ware, I never dremp’ of 
seein ! 

To each plate was put a little bokay of sweet-smel- 
lin’ flowers, and a little book, like — all silver and 
gilt — that they called a ‘ menew ; ’ that is, a bill of 
fare or list of the things you can have to eat, in their 
order. And, though there wa’n’t no nut cakes, nor 
cookies, nor pound cake, nor much of anything 
we’d been used to at home, I must say there was 
what was full as good, if not better, and plenty of it. 
I couldn’t tell you the names o’ the vittles on that 
‘ rmnew ’ if I tried, for they was mostly in a furrin’ 


186 MR. AND MRS. BANNIBAL BAWKINB. 


tongue, but they tasted good, and that was the 
main p’int. 

On each of these “ menewses ” there was a dif- 
ferent picter. They was all painted by hand, 
in water colors, under Car’line’s direction, and 
every picter meant somethin’ partick’lar to the 
individewal it was intended for. 

On Hannibal’s was a mill-wheel and runnin’ 
water, and down in the left hand corner of the 
page — as true as I live — was a cunnin’ little punhin- 
sifter, with the letters H. H., for Hannibal Haw- 
kins, the maker, on it ! 

You never see a tickleder man than what he was 
when he fairly took in that picter ! 

Mine was two female figgers, one younger than 
t’other. The oldest one was settin’ down, and the 
younger one was leanin’ over her, lovin’ and ’fec- 
tionate. The room they was in looked ’mazin’ly 
familiar, and — wall, I felt, I knew, that them two 
figgers was meant for Car’line and me. For a 
minute I was so choked up I couldn’t hardly swal- 
ler, and my eyes ’most overflew with tears. To 
think that she should so regard me, bless her ! 
And me only her step-mar, after all ! 

But Aunt Betsey’s picter was the most remarka- 
ble. It was an ancient-lookin’ carpet loom, with 
great rough beams and bars, and the queer long 
reed goin’ across’! it, and, settin’ perched up on 
the high seat before it, was the figger of ’ a little 
woman, weavin’. 

The great, gay-colored balls, red, yeller, and 


ME. AND ME8. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 187 


green, was scattered round her on the floor, and a 
broad, slantin’ sunbeam, come in from somewheres, 
lightin’ up everything with a sort of glory, and 
jest touchin’ the little woman’s head. 

Wa’n’t it a happy thought in Car’line, so to 
honor and dignerfy the humble trade that Aunt 
Betsey had follered all her life, and so to kinder 
make her feel that there was poetry and beauty 
in it? 

It was jest like Car’line ; nobody else wouldn’t 
ever ’a’ thought on’t ! 

On Cousin Polly’s “ menew ” was a picter of 
Car’line herself, jest the head and shoulders. I 
s’pose she thought Polly would like it to remem- 
ber her by, when she went back home. 

Wall, I can’t dwell on to every partick’lar of the 
party, it would take too long ; but it was all beau- 
tiful, beautiful and complete ! 

After supper, there was singin’ by two great 
singers, and then a kind of jugglerin’ performance, 
that did beat all you ever see ! 

I heard Mister Gribbin tell Kichard how it was 
wuth the fare to New York and back jest to see 
it ! 

And now, oh dear me suz ! I hate to tell the 
rest, for I can’t, very well, but I must try. 

All the company had gone but the Punkinville 
folks ; they was to spend the night, and Eichard 
had planned to take ’em round the city the next 
day, and show ’em the sights. 

We was in the music-and-singin’-room. Eichard 


188 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


had jest gone somewheres to tend to somethin’ or 
’nother, but the rest on us was there talkin’ over 
the party and the folks that was to it. I’m glad 
to say that Serinthy Ann Gribbin had the grace 
and honesty to confess that she never see no sech 
party before, nor no sech high up, stylish folks, 
nowheres, not evm in Boston. She told Car’line so, 
fair and square, and said “ it did beat all ! ” 

But Car’line didn’t seem to mind — took it as 
modest and simple as could be. 

It was pretty well ’long towards mornin’, and 
Aunt Betsey said she felt as if she really must go 
to bed, so Car’line kissed her and says : 

“ You shall have Great Gran’ma Hawkinses’ 
old silver candlestick to light you to bed. Aunt 
Betsey ! ” 

It stood on the shelf jest over her head, and as 
she spoke she reached up to git it for her ; but 
in so dewin’ her great, long, flowin’ sleeve (they 
call ’em. “angel sleeves,” I believe) fell down and 
ketched the flame of one o’ the gas-jets inside a 
wide, flarin’ shade, and in a minute her thin, white 
dress was one blaze of fire ! 

Then everybody went wild ! 

Hannibal grabbed a great pitcher of lemonade 
and, openin’ a winder, he dashed it out, yellin’ 
“ Fire ! fire ! ” 

Serinthy Ann Gribbin fainted away and fell on 
to the floor, and I, in makin’ a rush acrost the 
room, stumbled over her, But Aunt Betsey— Aunt 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 189 

Betsey’s head was level — quicker’n a wink she 
snatched a kiver off’n a little table standin’ by and 
wropped Car’line in it, puttin’ her arms round her 
and holdin’ her tig-ht, though she screamed and 
struggled like a crazy creatur’ to get away. 

It was all over in no time. The fire was out, 
and though it seemed like a mericle of marcy, 
Car’line wa’n’t burned hardly a mite ! 

Her lace dress was gone, every thread on’t; 
bein’ so light, it had flashed up quick, but the 
table kiver had smothered it ’fore it had a chance 
to go any further. Her underclo’es wa’n’t burnt 
at all. 

One of Aunt Betsey’s hands was burnt, but not 
bad, and her new black silk dress was ruined ! 

It must ’a’ been done by the flames while she 
was gittin’ the table-kiver ’round Car’line. It 
hadn’t blazed at all; didn’t seem to be burnt 
through, really, but it was all crinkled and cockled 
up, in the most cur’is way you ever see ! 

Of course Eichard heard the outcry and come 
rushin’ in with all the hired help at his heels. He 
fell down on his knees beside o’ Car’line, and it 
was some little time ’fore she could make him be- 
lieve she wa’n’t dead, nor even hurt ! 

And when he got it through his head how she 
had been saved, and by Aunt Betsey, you’d orter 
seen him ! He took the little old lady in his arms 
and set down on the sofy, holdin’ her as if she’d 
been a child, and I dunno’ hardly what he said ; 
but the amount ou’t was, that she’d saved 


190 ME. AMD MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


line / Caroline ! Caroline ! ” and lie begged on her 
to tell him how he could thank her, and bless all 
her life to pay for’t. 

Wall, as soon as we could, we took Aunt Betsey 
up stairs to her “Bowdoor,” and put her to bed, 
with the risin’ sun bed kiver over her, and all the 
things she so enjoyed to see, around her; and 
when I had dressed her hand (everybody w'as so 
anxious to help, that I thought I shouldn’t never 
git it done !), and when she had swallered, like a 
lam’, all the doses — the cordials and quietin’ 
powders and things, that each one insisted on to 
it she must take, then, we all went off to bed leav- 
in’ Car’line and Eichard alone with her to tell her 
agin how grateful they was, and how they loved 
her, and that they was goin’ to be her children 
now, her son and darter, as it were, and take care 
of her alwers. 

And the dear old soul cried a little, and said, 
“ it wa’n’t nothin’ ; somebody else would ’a’ done 
it if she hadn’t,” and a lot more. But she must ’a’ 
felt real kind o’ weak and shook up, for when she 
see the black silk layin’ all in a ruined heap, she 
broke clear down, and says, real pitiful, to Car’line, 
“ I am sorry about the gown ; I never had a silk 
gown before, you know, Car’line.” 

Then Eichard and Car’line set to and tried to 
make her understand that she should have all the 
silk gowns she could wear, and some to give away, 
if she liked. But she couldn’t sense it, and shook 
her head, and looked reprovin’, sayin’ “It wouldn’t 


ME. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 191 


never dew for young married folks to begin with 
sech extravergant notions.” 

Car’line laughed and looked at Eichard, then 
leaned over and whispered somethin’ in Aunt Bet- 
sey’s ear. This is what she said: '"Aunt Betsey, 
we ain’t extravergant, because we’re wuth more’n three 
million dollars, and we don’t hnow what under the 
sun to do ivith it. ” 

So Aunt Betsey had to be satisfied, and ’twixt 
laughin’ and cryin’ promised she’d give up work- 
in’ so hard, and let them dew for her. 

They staid with her till she fell asleep, and then, 
with their arms around one ’nother, like two chil- 
dren, they tiptoed out of the room. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


MKS. DEACON PLUMMER’S THANKSGIVING. 

Deacon Plummer was too stingy to live, and 
everybody knew it ! But I don’t s’pose anybody 
knew how poor Mis’ Plummer had to manage and 
contrive and skimp to get along. 

She never had the handlin’ of any money ; even 
the egg and butter money, that most every far- 
mer’s wife has for her own use, all went into the 
deacon’s pockits, and if she wanted a new gown or 
bunnit, or a pair of shoes — I hadn’t orter say if she 
wanted ’em, but if she must have ’em, and there 
wa’n’t no possible airthly way for him to skin out 
o’ gittin’ ’em — then the deacon would go to the 
store wdth her and buy ’em and pay for ’em, jest 
as if she was a child or an ijiot, and incaperble o’ 
dewin’ business on her own hook. 

If Mis’ Plummer hadn’t had the best disposition 
in the world she wouldn’t ’a’ stood it all them 
years ; as it was, it wore on her and told on her 
fearful, and, though the deacon was one of the 
richest men in Punkinville, she might ’a’ been the 
wife of the poorest and miser’blest, so fur as any 
outward indications was consarned-^or innard in- 


MR. AND MRS. HAMmSAL HAWKINS. 193 

dications either — for she was alwers half starved. 
She wa’n’t nothin’ but skin and bones, and her 
countenants was as thin and peaked as could be. 

You see, everything- that they raised on the 
farm that ought to have furnished their table 
bountiful, sech as beef creatur’s, pigs, turkeys, 
hens, eggs, and fruit, and veg’tables, was either 
sold at the store or sent off on the cars to the city 
markets, and the money that come from ’em was 
put in the bank and kep’ there. 

Pretty much all their livin’ the year round was 
salt pork and pertaters, with now and then a biled 
dish, or a mess o’ baked beans. 

And the wust on’t was, that as the deacon got 
older his stinginess grew upon him, and every 
year he made it harder and harder for Mis’ Plum- 
mer to git along. She never, never had nothin’ 
ter dew with ! That was her everlastin’, continewal 
complaint. Sometimes she had thought serious 
of applyin’ to the town, to see if that wouldn’t 
shame the deacon into bein’ more liberal and de- 
cent. She never thought of applyin’ for a divorce 
and alermony, as a city woman would ’a’ donel 
Bless you, no ! I don’t s’pose sech an idee ever 
entered Mis’ Plummer’s head ! She wa’n’t one o’ 
that kind; there wa’n’t nothin’ strong-minded nor 
spunky ’bout Mis’ Plummer. She was one of 
these ’ere little, mild, meachin’ wopaen that don’t 
darster say their soul’s their own, unless every- 
body’s willin’, you know. 

Wall, as I said, Deacon Plummer grew wuss’n 


194 ME. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


wuss, and come along- the week before Thanks- 
g-ivin’ he got a bran’ -new crotchet into his head. 

It was at family devotions one mornin’, jest 
before the readin’, that he divulgated it to his 
wife. 

He finds the place in Nehemiar — he alwers read 
the long chapters in fall and winter, and kep’ the 
short ones for hurryin’ time in hayin’ — he finds 
the place, and puts his thum’ in to keep it, then, 
drawin’ on a long face, he looks at Mis’ Plummer 
over his spe’tacles, and says he : 

“ Wife, I run of a notion that this ’ere Thanks- 
givin’ business is all foolishness! Seem’s if it 
must be a sin in the sight o’ the Lord to eat so 
much one day in the year. I don’t believe it’s 
necessary to make pigs and gluttons of ourselves 
in order to have thankful hearts, ’n if we go to 
meetin’, and so on, why ain’t that enough ? ” 

Mis’ Plummer didn’t say nothin’, jest set and 
looked at him kinder helpless, with her hands in 
her lap, and he went on. 

“I reckon we’ll sell the turkey this year and 
have our usual dinner, ’long’s there ain’t no chil- 
dren cornin’ home, ilor nothin’.” 

Then he begun to read a hull chapter full of 
long, hard names, and his pronounciation was 
enough to make a cat laugh, but Mis’ Plummer 
didn’t laugh; there wa’n’t no laugh in her, no 
time, and that mornin’ she felt oncommon num’. 

All through the readin’ she set there with her 
hands in her lap, not exactly thinkin’, but kinder 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 195 


^ wonderin’ and grievin’. And when they kneeled 
down to pray, she kep’ on wonderin’ more’n ever. 
She wondered what she had to be thankful for, 
anyway. She knew that their daughter Ellen, 
all the child they had in the world, lived so fur 
away that she couldn’t afford to come home to 
Thanksgivin’ and bring the children — bein’ she 
was a widder and poor — and what did she, her mar, 
care to eat turkey and plum puddin’ all alone with 
the deacon! It was jest as well to put the money 
in the bank — but Ellen — the children — oh! how 
she wanted to see ’em, and how she did feel 1 But, 
as I have said, she was one of the meek, all-suf- 
ferin’ kind, and she jest give right up, and kep’ 
still. 

Massy sakes ! I’d like to see Hannibal under- 
take to grind me down like that ! I’d make it so 
hot for him that he’d be glad to have Thanksgivin’ 
every day in the year for the sake o’ peace 1 And 
I ain’t what you’d call a termagant nor a tartar, 
nuther, but I wouldn’t yumor a man in bein’ so 
awful mean, would you ? I hold that if a man 
won’t be kinder half decent of his own accord, he 
must be made to be so. Deacon Plummer was 
made to he so ; but not by his wife— you’ll see how 
it was brought about. 

This new projeck of the deacon’s, and the pros- 
peck of the lonesome thanksgivin’, seemed to break 
Mis’ Plummer all up. There wa’n’t nothin’ tew 
her, no time, as you might say, and this was like 
the last straw on the camel’s back. All to once 


196 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


she give out and lay down on her bed as if she 
meant to die. 

The next momin’, when she didn’t get up as 
usual, the deacon didn’t think much about it — 
s’posed she’d be up bimeby— and so he shuffled 
round and warmed up some tea, and got a bite 
o’ somethin’ to eat, and went out to work. But, 
when he come in to dinner, there lay his wife 
jest the same, and she didn’t think o’ gettin’ up. 

“ Wall, wall ! ” says the deacon, “ I wanter know 
if you’re goin’ to be sick. I’m afraid you hain’t 
been careful enough ’bout your diet. What have 
you e’t ? ” 

Upon this, poor Mis’ Plummer turned her face 
to the wall and cried like a baby. She didn’t say 
a word, she jest laid and cried. It wa’n’t often she 
cried, and it scairt the deacon. He didn’t know 
what under the sun to do, but he knew he must do 
somethin’. Why ! seemed as if she wouldn’t never 
stop ! How she did cry ! He knew he must do 
somethin’, so he het a brick and put to her feet, 
and was jest makin’ a mustard plaster to put 
on her somewheres, when Mis’ Gribbin happened 
in. 

She see how it was with Mis’ Plummer in a 
minute. Mis’ Gribbin is awful cute about some 
things, and she ain’t afraid o’ no man livin’, and 
she says to herself : 

Now is the time to strike for liberty for Mis’ 
Plummer.” 

“ Beacon Plummer,” says she, matter o’ fact as 


un. Am MJRB. s;A]!rmBAL bawkins. 197 


you please, “ your wife’s a sick woman, and she’s 
goin’ to die right off, less you hyper round and 
do somethin’, and do it quick ! But fust, you’d 
better let me step over and fetch the doctor.” 

The deacon was wonderful took down. All of a 
sudden he felt that his wife was invalooable to 
him ; he couldn’t get along without her, nohow. 
He was as anxious to have the doctor as Mis’ 
Gribbin was, and told her to hurry over and get 
him. 

So she went — he lived near by — and she says 
to him : 

“Doctor Bonder, now is your chance to do a 
deed o’ humanity, and put a spoke in Dea. Plum- 
mer’s wheel for all time ! If he’s got any heart 
and feelin’s, you must work on to ’em for his wife’s 
sake. It would be cruel to bring her back to life, 
’less you can do somethin’ to make that life en- 
doorable. Don’t, I beg on ye, raise her up to live 
on in the same old skimpy, miser’ble way. Better 
let her die, and done with it.” 

They discussed and considered over the matter 
for a few minutes, then went together to the dea- 
con’s house. 

They found Mis’ Plummer layin’ jest the same. 
The deacon’s hot bricks and mustard plasters 
hadn’t ’livened her up a mite, appearently. 

Wall, the doctor examined her and diaggemosed 
her case as well as he could : then he motioned 
the deacon out into the other room and shet the 
door behind him. . - 


198 MB. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINB. 


They talked there for a good half-hour, and 
when the deacon come out, he looked for all the 
world as if he’d been drawed through a ’not-hole. 
He looked like a man who had renounced “ the 
world, the flesh, and the devil,” and all his stingi- 
ness to once ; and Mis’ Gribbin, when she see him, 
laughed in her sleeve and says to herself : 

“ I guess Doctor Bonder has made a good thur- 
rer job on’t this time ! ” 

Afterwards the Doctor give her a full account of 
that ’ere interview ; and it was interestin’, and as 
it turned out highly satisfactory to all consarned. 

It seems the doctor took him awful solium to 
begin with, and says he : 

“ Deacon, do you set high vally on your wife’s 
life ? ” 

“ High vally on my wife’s life ! ” says the dea- 
con, red in the face ; “ of course I dew. What you 
talkin’ about ? ” 

“ She has been a devoted and lovin’ pardner,” 
goes on the doctor, “she has been kind and 
equinomical, nussed you in sickness, and shared 
your labors in health, hain’t she ? ” 

“Yes, yes! of course. What in natur’ be you 
drivin’ at ? ” says the deacon, gittin’ excited. 

The doctor only waived his hand to enjine si- 
lence, and went on kinder dreamy, as if talkin’ to 
himself. 

“ I remember how hamsome she was when you 
fetched her home a bride. Plump as a partridge, 
rosy as a flower, and as laughin’ and chipper a 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 199 


girl as I ’bout ever see. Changed, hain’t she ? ” 
turnin’ to the deacon, and feelin’ in his pocket for 
his hank’chif to wipe away his tears. “It does 
beat all, how she’s changed,” says he. 

“ Changed ! ” says the deacon, squirmin’ round 
in his chair and all of a fluster, “ of course she’s 
changed. Why, we’ve been married goin’ on 
twenty-flve year! You can’t expect a woman to 
stay twenty all her life.” 

“ That’s so,” ’lowed the doctor, ’pearin’ to re- 
flect. “ But she’s alwers been pretty well, hain’t 
she ? Been able to work most o’ the time 1 ” 

“ Never’s sick a day in her life before, except 
when Ellen was bom,” answers the deacon, 
proudly. 

“ H’m 1 has an excellent constitootion, no doubt,” 
says the doctor, noddin’ his head approvin’. Then 
he didn’t speak agin for some time, seemed to be 
thinkin’. 

“ I know farmer’s wives grow old pretty fast as a 
gineral thing ; break down young, don’t they ? 
But, Deacon Plummer,” squarin’ round on him 
and lookin’ him in the eye, “ Deacon Plummer, I 
want to ask you to compare your wife’s looks 
with the looks of other women of her age in town, 
no harnsomer, no healthier than what she was 
when she was married, and tell me if you think 
there’s a difference.” 

Then he mentioned a dozen or so, jest as it 
happened, most of ’em slick, comfortable, happy- 
lookin’ women, and says he : 


200 MM. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


“ Now they’re different from Mis’ Plummer, and 
why ? I ask you fair and candid, why shouldn’t 
your wife look as happy, as slick and plump as 
they dew, and why shouldn’t she be as well 
dressed and make as good a ’pearance every way ? 
And why is it that she has took to her bed in the 
prime o’ life, as you might say, and don’t want to 
live no longer ? for I find that’s about the way 
it is with her.” 

He stopped, and the deacon set there pale as a 
statu’. He didn’t answer back a word, jest set 
with his head dropped down on his chist, as if he 
was stunned or somethin’, and the doctor went out 
and left him alone. 

When Dr. Bonder come back to Mis’ Plummer 
he perscribed for her — not much medicine, but 
plenty of good nussin’ and good feedin’ — wine and 
beef-tea, and chicken and lamb broth to begin 
with, and he left it to Mis’ Gribbin to see that she 
had ’em ; then he leans over Mis’ Plummer and 
says, real cheerful, 

“ Now you must brace right up. Mis’ Plummer, 
and try to git well. The deacon can’t git along 
without you, and I guess he’ll make things as 
easy and pleasant as he can for you, if you’ll only 
git well.” 

She hadn’t no idee of what he really meant; 
she only smiled kinder sad, but her great eyes 
spoke volyumes. She didn’t mean to live — not 
yet. 

As I 'said, it was as much as half an hour after 


MM. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 201 


the doctor left that the deacon come back into the 
bedroom. He went up to the bed and set down 
beside his wife and looked at her. She was asleep, 
and he must have realized how pitiful she looked, 
for Mis’ Gribbin see him draw his hand acrost his 
eyes once or twice on the sly. After he’d set a 
spell he went out to Mis’ Gribbin (she was jest 
buildin’ a fire in the kitchen stove), and says he : 

“What was the doctor’s orders? What can I 
dew to help ye ? ” 

“ He ordered nourishin’ food and wine, and so 
on,” she says ; “ and I guess the fust thing, you 
may kill a chicken, if you’re min’ ter, and git it 
ready for the broth, and then go over to Jake 
Goodale’s and buy a quart or so of that oldest 
grape wine o’ his’n. She’ll be awake by the time 
you git back with it.” 

The deacon didn’t so much as wink at the 
chicken, but when she spoke of the wine so off 
hand and matter o’ course, he drawed in his 
breath once or t\yice, kinder spasmodicky, but 
never opened his head. 

He killed the chicken and got it ready for the 
pot, as spry and handy as a woman, and then took 
a gallon jug and started off to Jake Goodale’s af- 
ter the wine. 

When the broth was ready, the deacon asked if 
he might take it in, so Mis’ Gribbin filled one of 
the chiny bowls that was Mis’ Plummer’s mar’s, 
and set it in a plate with a cracker or two, and he 
took ’em along. 


202 MR. XND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


When Mis’ Plummer tasted of the broth she 
looked at her husband kinder scairt, and says 
she, 

“ Where did this ’ere come from ? ” 

And the deacon laughed and says : 

“It’s made out o’ one of our best Plymouth 
Eocks ; is it good ? ” 

A wonderin’, quiverin’ smile hovered for a min- 
ute on to her poor face ; she didn’t know what to 
make on’t ; but when he lugged the jug o’ wine 
into the room and poured out half a tumblerful 
and handed it to her, her eyes fairly stuck out of 
her head with astonishment. 

“ Drink it,” says the deacon, “ it’ll do you good. 
It’s Jake Goodale’s oldest grape wine that you’ve 
heard tell on.” 

“ Why, why ! husband ! ” she whispered, trem- 
blin’ ; “ didn’t it cost an awful sight o’ money ? ” 

“ Only three dollars a gallon,” he answers, tryin’ 
to smile, and succeedin’ middlin’ well. 

She sipped it slow, eyin’ him over the top o’ 
the tumbler while she done so. When she set it 
down, she spoke ag’in awful meachin’ and ’pealin’, 
her lip tremblin’ as if she was goin’ to cry. 

“I’m sorry to put you to so much expense, 
husband — I’m ’fraid — I’m ’fraid it ain’t wuth 
while ! ” 

The deacon got up and blowed his nose with all 
his might and main. 

“ I want you to git well, Sarah, I want you to 
git well ! ” he managed to say. 


ME. AND ME8. RANNIBAL HAWKINS. 203 


The strangest expression come into her face you 
ever see in any creatur’s. Seemed as if she thought 
at fust : 

“ Yes ! you want me to git well, so I can work 
and slave and save for you ag’in,” and I s’pose 
she felt as if she didn’t wanter do it ; then, as if 
struck by somethin’ in his looks, she seemed to git 
a dim idee that somethin’ had happened to him, 
that he was different, and she tried to make out 
how it was, but she couldn’t, and bein’ too tired 
and weak to think much, she jest shet her eyes 
and give it all up. 

That night the deacon harnessed the old mare 
and went over after Seliny Truell to come to stay 
with ’em a spell. Seliny is an excellent hand in 
case o’ sickness, and, bein’ an old maid, she’s al- 
wers ready to go and dew for the neighbors. 

She’s a prime nuss and housekeeper, and she’s 
good comp’ny, too — jest the kind of a person to 
cheer Mis’ Plummer up, you know. 

After the deacon got fairly started on the right 
track, it seemed to be easy enough for him to keep 
a-goin’. When he begun to spend his money he 
seemed to enjoy it as much as anybody. The 
fact was, he set the world by his wife, only h© 
never realized it till he thought of losin’ her and 
the doctor’s rakin’ down brought him to his senses 
and made him all over new, as it were. He see 
that if he wanted to git her up ag’in he must 
make her happy, and offer her indoocements to 
live. So he set about it in amest. 


204 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. i 

Seliny said she never see a changeder man than 
what he was, all through. 

There was jest about a week to Thanksgivin’, 
and he and Seliny set to work to make that 
Thanksgivin’ a day that Mis’ Plummer ’d remem- 
ber as long as she lived. 

Fust, they bought a nice easy-chair and a lounge 
for the settin’-room, so .that when Mis’ Plummer 
begun to set up (as she did in a day or two) she 
might be comfortable. Then they had Miss Bab- 
bitt, the dressmaker, come over and fit her a pretty 
flannel wrapper, and help Seliny make it. When 
it was finished they put some lace in the neck and 
sleeves, and it was lady -like and nice enough for 
anybody. The fust time the deacon see her in it 
he actewally blushed and looked as bashful and 
awk’ard as if he’d come a’courtin’. As for Mis’ 
Plummer, from the minute she begun to hope, she 
begun to git well, and she was growin’ young and 
pretty every day. 

Wall, it come along the day before Thanks- 
givin’, and Mis’ Plummer lay back in her easy- 
chair in the cheerful settin’-room. A pitcher of 
late fall flowers stood on the mantletry shelf. A 
cracklin’ fire was burnin’ in the open fireplace, 
and the old tabby-cat lay before it on the rug, 
purrin’ for all she was wuth — a perfect picter of 
content. 

The door was open into the kitchen, and shp 
could see Seliny steppin’ round about her work, 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 205 


gittin’ ready for to-morrer. She could smell the 
stuffin’ for the turkey, and the plum-puddin’ bakin’ 
in the oven. She knew there was a hull shelf full 
o’ pies in the pantry — she see ’em yesterday ; six 
mince, six punkin, three apple, and three cram- 
berry tart. She thought it was ruther too many 
to make at once, jest for three folks — it seemed 
so strange — why! she never used to have pies 
— not even one — ’less the minister or comp’ny 
was cornin’. But everything was strange now- 
’days I 

She looked down at her pretty gown, and round 
the pleasant room, and listened to Seliny hum- 
min’ a hym’-tune as she worked, and she couldn’t 
hardly believe she was herself at all, or that this 
was really her home ! ‘‘ How nice everything was, 

and how happy she’d orter be I ” 

Then she sighed, and dropped her hands in her 
lap, with somethin’ of the old look in her face — 
she was thinkin’ of Ellen and the children. 

How could she bear to be happy— how could she 
feast on turkey and plum-puddin’ to-morrer, and 
know that Ellen and the children hadn’t nothin’ 
of the kind 1 Oh 1 she wished that she had asked 
the deacon to sell the turkey jest the same, and 
send the money to fetch ’em home ! He was so 
good to her now’days, he wouldn’t ’a’ refused her 
—and no dinner at all, with Ellen, would be fur 
better than turkey without her 1 

She set there blamin’ herself, and thinkin’ what 


206 MR. AND MBS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


a poor, weak kind of a mother she was, till she felt 
almost a g*ood min’ ter cry, when all to once she 
heard a noise outside. 

The stage had stopped, and there was the sound 
of voices talkin’ and laughin’, and of feet hurryin’ 
up the steps. Then the door opened — no, it was 
burst open — and in trooped a parcel o’ children, 
and behind ’em, with her hands stretched out and 
the happy tears streamin’ down her pretty face, 
come her daughter Ellen ! 

How them two kissed and clung to one ’other, 
till the children got out o’ patience, and wouldn’t 
wait no longer for their turn! And how they 
pounced upon their little gran’mar that they loved 
more by hearsay than by actewal knowin’, and 
hugged her like bears, so that she almost fainted 
away in their strong young arms 1 

Then the deacon comes to the resky, and says, 
betwixt laughin’ and cry in’, 

“ There, there, children ! I guess that’ll dew ! 
It’s my turn now,” and he takes her to the lounge, 
where she can lay and rest, and still talk with ’em 
all. 

When she is fixed comfortable, he starts to 
leave her, for he feels that he can’t stan’ it much 
longer, but she puts her arm round his neck 
and pulls him down to her and kisses him, and 
whispers : 

“ Oh, husband, husband, how good you be 1 
You’ve made me the happiest woman in the 
world!” 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 207 


The deacon gets away as quick as he can and 
goes out to the bam and sets down on the hay- 
cntter and langhs, and wipes his eyes, and blows 
his nose, till he is some calmer. Then he falls on 
his knees, and thanks the Lord for showin’ him 
what trne happiness is, and how to get it for him- 
self by bestowin’ it on others. 



I 



CHAPTEE XVII. 


CAR’LINE’s CHRISTMAS. 

It was December, about a fortnight before 
Christmas, that Car’line and her husband was set- 
tin’ in their parlor together beside a cracklin’ 
fire. 

The room was an awful harnsome one, full of 
picters and statooary, and bricky bracks, and every- 
thing you could think on in the way of ornyment. 
Car’line set in a great white velvet chair, and she 
had on a pink dress, and looked as sweet and fresh 
as any flower you ever see. Some sech idee seemed 
to come into her husband’s head when he looked 
up from his newspaper and his eye lit on her. 

But Car’line didn’t mind his admirin’ gaze ; 
her’n was fixed dreamy- like on the fire, and her 
face wore that serious, pityin’ expression it always 
had when she was feelin’ sorry for somebody, and 
her husband had learned to read it well. 

“ What is it, dear ? ” he asked, leanin’ for’ard in 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 209 


order to smile down into her eyes, and takin’ her 
little hand in his’n. 

Car’line roused up and smiled back at him 
bright as a button. 

“Kichard,” says she, “what are you goin’ to 
give me this year for a Christmas present ? ” 
Then she laughed and blushed a little. “ I didn’t 
mean to ask that exactly, either,” she says, “ but 
about how much money do you s’pose you will 
put into a present for me ? Would you be will- 
in’ to tell me ? ” 

Richard never took no ’fence at Car’line’s ques- 
tions ; he always knew that she meant well and 
had an object, and he ginerally laid out to answer 
’em to the best of his abilerty, honest and re- 
speckful ; so now he considers for a minute, turn- 
in’ the rings round and round on Car’line’s fingers 
kinder absent, and says he, “ Wall, I guess about 
a thousand dollars this time, ’less there’s some- 
thin’ partick’lar you want that I don’t know 
of.” 

“ There is somethin’ partick’lar I want,” says 
Car’line, “ not for a present for myself, but it will 
make me happy,” and she turned to Richard with 
that beseechin’ look in her beautiful eyes that 
was so fetchin’. “Richard, dear,” she goes on, 
“ will you — will you give me the money that you 
would spend on a Christmas present for me, to 
do jest what I please with ; will you ? ” 

“ Why ! you can have all the money you want 
to spend, and the present besides,” says Richard? 


210 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


“ you can have double your reglar allowance, or 
more.” 

“ Yes, I know,” interrupted Car’line, almost bit- 
ter, “I know I can have everything, everything! 
And so many folks can’t have anything hardly 1 
The thought of them makes me miserable ! ” 

She looked at him with the tears jest ready to 
fall, her lips a-quiverin’. “ But this year, Rich- 
ard, I want somebody to have instid o’ me. Let 
me do for somebody with the money you’d spend 
for me ; give me the happiness of goin’ without 
for their sakes I I shall like that better than 
anything you can buy me — yes, with a million 
dollars ! ” 

“ Why, Car’line ! ” says Richard, takin’ her in his 
arms, for he couldn’t bear to see her so terribly 
in ’arnest, “ of course, you can do anything you 
wanter, anything 1 I sha’n’t hender you. Don’t I 
know it’ll be right, whatever ’tis ? Ain’t you my 
good angel, my ” 

Nobody knows what names he would ’a’ called 
her, nor how many of ’em, but she clapped her 
hands over his mouth and says, 

“ There, there I that’ll do I Now let’s attend to 
business, if you please.” Then she went on to tell 
him what she had in mind as nigh as she could — 
of course her plans wasn’t all laid out yet — and he 
agreed to everything, sayin’ agin that whatever 
she done was alwers right, and so forth, and so 
on. 

Now, Car’line had a little sewin’ woman that 


MR. AND MR8. MANNIBAL BAWKIN8. ^11 


come to the house every week to look over the 
clo’es and do the mendin’ ; her name was Almiry 
Plum, and she was a terrible scairt, poverty-struck 
lookin’ little thing, but she was a real likely girl, 
and smart as a trap. She wasn’t bad-lookin’ 
nuther. Car’line often wondered whuther no she 
wouldn’t be pretty, take her and dress her up, 
and give her a free and happy expression o’ 
countenants sech as a young thing like her orter 
have. 

Car’line had been so kind to her that she had 
won her confidents, and Almiry had told her a 
great deal about herself and her troubles. 

It seemed that she was keepin’ company with 
Kiar Martin, a young man that driv’ out for a 
great market, and brought the meat and vegta- 
bles to Car’line’s house every day. They ’peared 
to be dretful fond o’ one ’nother — it did beat all ! 
Why, if Almiry happened to be around when 
Kiar come into the kitchen, he’d git so red in the 
face, and so flustered and mixed up in his idees, 
that he couldn’t tell a turnup from a pertater; 
and Almiry, she’d brighten up and hum Moody 
and Sanky tunes all the rest o’ the day, jest for 
the sight on him. 

Car’line knew that Kiar was buildin’ a house, a 
master little house it was, with only four or five 
rooms to it, but when it was done, he and Almiry 
was goin’ to be married and move into it. 

Now, Car’line had noticed lately that every time 
that little house was mentioned the tears would 


212 MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 


come into Almiry’s eyes, and she’d hang her head 
and sigh dismal. 

Car’line wondered why, and little by little she 
got the hull story out of Almiry. 



It seemed that Kiar had already been goin’ on 
five years buildin’ the little house. 

When he begun he had jest about money 
enough to do it with. He started it early in the 
summer and laid out to have it finished, so they 
could be married and move in on Christmas-day. 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 213 


That was five years ago. And Almiry was calker- 
latin’ to furnish it inside with what she’d saved of 
her airnin’s. She told Car’line how that she’d had 
as much as a hundred dollars in the bank to once, 
but she couldn’t keep it there, it alwers had to 
go jest as Kiar’s money did, and the little house 
wouldn’t never be finished and furnished, she felt 
afraid. 

The trouble was, Kiar had a mother to support, 
and she was old and rheumaticky, and was alwers 
havin’ terrible “ spells.” I don’t s’pose she could 
help it, but, jest as sure as Kiar begun to work on 
the little house she’d come down with the rheu- 
matiz the wust way, and all the money he’d got 
ahead would have to be spent for medicine and 
doctor’s bills. 

Car’line was in the habit of goin’ to Kiar’s house 
once in a while to look after the old lady a little, 
and carry fiannel and liniment and things to 
make her comfortable, but she hadn’t known their 
partick’lar trouble about the little house ’till 
a few days before the openin’ of this ’ere story. 
When she did know, she made up her mind 
that the happiness of them two young lives 
shouldn’t be pos’poned no longer for the lack 
of a few hundred dollars — and she a millionaire’s 
wife. 

It happened that the old mother was took extry 
bad about this time, and all Kiar’s evenin’s and 
every spare minute had to be spent in waitin’ on 
her and dewin’ the work, so he didn’t hardly 


214 MM. AMD MMS. BAMMIBAL BAWKIMS. 


think of the little house at all, much less go 
nigh it. 

Almiry, she come over as often as she could and 
cooked for ’em or cleaned up, though with her 
reg’lar day’s work she hadn’t orter and was gittin’ 
all wore out. Kiar see that she was, but he 
couldn’t help it ; he’d look into her little, pale 
face and wonder if he should ever be able to do 
anything to make her life easier and happier. 
The old mother see how it was too and she would 
groan and take on, and say, ‘‘ What a burden she 
was, and why didn’t the Lord take her out o’ the 
way, and done with it ? She didn’t want to live no 
longer, it wa’n’t her dewin’s,” and so on. Then 
them two lovers would comfort the poor old 
creatur’ and tell her they loved her dearly, and 
didn’t want her to die, whatever happened. And 
afterwards they’d kiss one ’nother good-night, and 
Almiry would go home and wet her pillar with 
tears. Oh, it was pitiful in them days ! Every- 
thing was so hard and tryin’ ! 

Wall, things was goin’ on this way when Christ- 
mas mornin’ come. It was a beautiful sunshiny 
momin’, and Car ’line felt so happy that she 
couldn’t hardly contain herself for thinkin’ of all 
she was goin’ to bestow on them poor lovin’ 
hearts. 

Right after breakfast she ordered her carriage 
and drove over to Kiar’s house to make a Christ- 
mas momin’ call. As good luck would have it, 
Almiry was there. She had come to help Kiar 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIRAL MAWKINS. 215 


as usual, and she had brought him and the old 
mother her little Christmas presents ; a pretty- 
handkerchief for her and a blue silk necktie for 
him. Kiar’s present to Almiry was a bosom pin 
with a sparklin’ white stone in it which Kiar said 
he “ wished was a di’mond, and it wouldn’t be 
half good enough for her if it was a di’mond.” 
One thing was sure, Almiry couldn’t ’a’ looked 
more pleased if it had been a di’mond. 

After Car’line had give ’em each a triflin’ pres- 
ent, jest to make things look right, you know, she 
told Almiry and Kiar that she had “ got to go and 
buy furnishin’s for a house belongin’ to a friend of 
her’n, and that she wished they’d come along and 
’sist her, it was sech a job. Would they ? ” 

Car’line had done them so many favors that 
they were naterally willin’ to ’commodate her, 
and besides they didn’t git a chance to ride in a 
carriage every day. They said they would go and 
be glad to, so they got one of the neighbors to 
come in and set with the mother while they was 
gone, and the three started off together. 

Car’line drove to the nearest store where they 
kep’ house furnishin’s, and beginnin’ with th® 
kitchenary department, she asked Almiry and Kiar 
if they ‘‘ wouldn’t please pick out what they 
thought orter go in a modest little kitchen, jest 
comfortable, you know,” says she, “ for folks in 
about your circumstances o’ life. Whatever suits 
you will suit her,” says Car’line. 

Here Kiar squeezed Almiry’s hand on the sly, 


216 ME. AMD MRS. MAmiBAL HAWKINS. 


and Car’line heard him whisper, Oh, if the little 
house was only done and we was buyin’ our things 
instid of somebody’s elses!” And Almiry an- 
swered back patient and lovin’, “Never mind, 
Kiar, let’s play they be for us anyway, and we 
shall enjoy buyin’ most as much.” And they did 
— the onselfish creatur’s. They picked out a stove 
and pots and kittles to go with it, and tins and 
washtubs and flat-irons ; they even was so reckless 
and extravagant as to buy a patent coffee pot and 
copper wash-dish. 

“ Of course we shouldn’t think o’ havin’ no 
sech things, but for her I guess they’ll be the best 
and equinomicle enough in the long run,” Al- 
miry said. 

Then they picked out a handsome set o’ dishes, 
that Almiry hung over and handled as if she 
couldn’t never tear herself away (it beats all how 
women do like pretty crockery ware !) ; and Kiar 
looked at her and imagined what it would be to 
see her with a white apron on using them dishes 
and all them nice new things in their own kitchen 
in the little house, and at the thought of it he 
hove a deep sigh, and wiped his eyes fust on one 
paper cuff, then on t’other. 

After they’d fitted out the kitchen even to the 
broom and pepper-box, they went on to the bed- 
room and bought a neat little set comprisin’ a 
bur’o with a lookin’-glass on top, a rockin’ -chair, 
and et settery, et settery, and a great rug to lay 
down before the bed. 


Mn, AND MBS. BANNIBAL HAWKINS. 217 


Last of all they come to the parlor, and at this 
juncter, Carline’s strength give out onaccount- 
ably, so she had to leave the rest of the job to 
them. 

Then, oh ! how they almost trembled at fust at 
the idee of takin’ sech a responsibility, but finally 
riz to the ’casion, determined to do their level 
best. And they done it, and I guess no parlor 
was ever furnished more thurrer and tasty for the 
money than what that one was. 

Wall, when all was done, they felt terrible wor- 
ried and anxious for fear it wouldn’t suit, but 
Car’line told ’em “there wouldn’t be the leastest 
mite o’ trouble about that, she’d warrant,” so they 
tried to feel easy on that pint. 

Take it all ’round, it was a long job and they 
didn’t git through till dinner-time. But how 
they had enjoyed themselves ! “ Most as much,” 

they told Car’line, “ as if it had been their own 
little house they was fittin’ out.” 

“Perhaps,” said Kiar, lookin’ at AJmiry and 
tryin’ to smile, “ perhaps by next Christmas we’ll 
be buyin’ for ourselves.” But Almiry sighed, 
though she smiled back ; and Car’line knew she 
was thinkin’ it wa’n’t any ways likely. 

Car’line writ on a slip of paper, tellin’ where to 
send the goods, and give it to the store-keeper, 
chargin’ him to have ’em delivered as soon as pos- 
sible. Then she turned to Kiar and Almiry, sayin’ 
she orter be ashamed of herself for askin’ any- 
thing more, but she hadn’t got quite done with 


218 MM. Am MM8. BANNIBAL BAWKIN8. 


them yet. “ Would they go again along with her 
to one more place in the afternoon ? She would 
be so much obleeged, and she wouldn’t keep ’em 
but jest a little while.” 

They said they would go and welcome, and 
Car’line, after thankin’ them a thousand times for 
their services, carried them home and left them. 

Perhaps we orter told you before, though you 
may have guessed it yourselves, that Car’line had 
put the carpenters and other workmen on to the 
little house them two weeks before Christmas, and 
by hurryin’ up a little they had finished it com- 
plete, even to the door stun and scraper. It was 
clean, too, inside and out, and ready to live in. 

As soon as the furnitoor they had bought ar- 
rove, she went and got Kiar and Almiry once 
more and took ’em along to participate in the “ de 
new mong” which is French and means the wind- 
in’ up, the climax of a story or play, you know. 

When they stopped in front of the little house 
and see it all finished, neat as a new pin, and 
harnsome as a picter’, you must imagine their 
feelin’s ! I guess Kiar felt some as ’Laddin did 
when he rubbed the lamp and the palace ’peared 
before him so onexpected. And as for Almiry, 
poor little thing, she jest fell into Kiar’s arms and 
cried as if her heart was broke, instid of bein’ 
a’most burstin’ with happiness ! 

Car’line told ’em it was done — a good fairy had 
finished it — a-purpose for them, it was their’n, the 
house and everything in it, and they could git 


MR. AND MRS. HANNIBAL HAWKINS. 219 


married and go to housekeepin’ as quick as they 
was a min’ ter. 

Then she led ’em inside, and they looked 
round, too dazed at fust to take it in, but finally, 
they come tew as it were, and oh ! how happy 
they was ! How they laughed, rememberin’ their 
anxiety for fear the folks they were selectin’ for 
wouldn’t be suited ! How they blushed to think 
they had picked out the patent coffee-pot and the 
copper wash-dish for themselves after all ! 

Was there ever anybody so happy as them two 
young folks ? No ! nobody, I do believe, except- 
in’ Car’line herself, the good fairy who had the 
right to be so, sence it is more blessed to give 
than to receive, you know. 

And as she sat that night in her great, white 
velvet chair before the cracklin’ fire, tellin’ her 
husband all about it, she felt that this had been 
the very happiest day of all her happy life. 


THE END. 


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AN ERRING WOMANS LOVE 



MKD OTHSBL f>OBVS 

BT 

ELLA 

WHEELER 

WILCOX 


BLLA WHEELER WILCOX. 


<4^ 

ATTTHOR 09 

“Poems of Pleasurr^ 

•‘Maurttie’* 

“Poems of Pasftioif* 

Etc 


tzmo-, 157 PP-, with Portrait, Price, Cloth, ^i.oo. 


■•In this book, truths, delicate to handle were never stated more Impress 
hrely and modestly .” — The Inter Ocean, Chicago, 

**As thrilling and genuine a picture of the inner life of an erring woman as 
we know of in literature. It thrills with the revolt and abandonment and 
moral indifference of such a person, and yet it is so written that it might be 
read aloud in a social circle, and not bring a blush upon any one’s face, and its 
working cait at the finish is lull of moral and lyrical power .”— Boston 
herald, 

/ “Her [the author’s] chief sin, if sin it be, Is the disposition to ♦ake the 
' public too intimately into her confidence ... He is very blind who acmes 
her a spark of the divine fire. . . . It is a better rythmical story than hes 
appeared for many a day.”— ^Standard Union, JSrooJdyn, 

“It is seldom that one can come so near an author’s heart from l eading hl» 
or her book, as you may do in thisone,*An Erring Woman’s Love.’ It is • 
boquet ol exquisite thought, of love, of philosophy, of helpfulness . . 
WLumanity and HecdtJu 


AMERICAN PUBLISHERS CORPORATION 
310-318 SIXTH AVENUE. NEW YORK. 



BY ATsTlSllB WOLK 

Author of “Pen Pictures of hond on Society” etc. 

Elegantly illustrated by W. P- Hooper. 

i2mo., cloth, gilt top, ^1.25, 
paper 50 cents. 

The Book for Every Womans 
Boudoir. 


Those who would know how to become beautiful without the 
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PARTIAL LIST OF SUBJECTS TREATED. 

Types oflyoveliness ; Men Masters of their Fates ; Diet and Complexion, 
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Concerning this unique, and valuable book, of the greatest in- 
terest to all interested in personal beauty, 

Th» New York, Herald says : “The whole book may be cordially recom- 
memded.” 

The Sujfalo {N. T.) Cotnnteroial says : “It is a new departure, an indis- 
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TJw Chwrchnuin, New York, says : “Mrs. Annie Wolf’s book concern- 
ing beauty in face and person is wholesome and practical.” I 



AMERICAN PUBLISHERS CORPORATION, 
3iO'3iS Sixth Avenue, New York. 


Your Horse! Your Horse!! 


Those who ride a Horse, or 
otherwise employ 
should own this 


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Prevention and Cure of Rest- 
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Ry Major Krancis Dwyer, 

From th« Fourth English Edition. Fully illustrated, i2mo. cloth, 
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Standard ' Authority** — Indianapolis Sentinel, 

*Enory/ iMtan owning a horse should own this hoo^e.!*— Public Opinion, New York, 

,,, 4 First Authority on all that pertain* to the proper and scientific 
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Frerry Horseman, as well as every horse-shoer should look up this work. 
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An investment of $1.50 in the purchase of this book, has proven 
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a Horse^ 
book 



— — 

AMERICAN PUBLISHERS CORPORATION, 

310-318 SIXTH AVEWyg:. NEW YORK. 


'•Sut^ects which vastly concam 
WIVES. MOTHERS AND DAUGHTERS' 


— 

• • A Dead • • 
Doctor Still Practicing 




Mrs. B. G. Cook, M.D., of New York, is dead, but 
her large practice continues by means of the invaluable 
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rcAN PUBI.1SHERS Corporation, publishers, 310-318 
Sixth Avenue, New York. 


An Elementary Handbook 


OF LESSONS, 

EXPERIMENTS, 

AND INVENTIONS, IN 



JScaeA 




ELECTRICI TY and M AGNETISM 
INCLUDING THE A. B. C. OF ELECTRICITY 

for beginners, as well as studies for advanced students ; together 
with problems and exercises wher." by each student may test his 
power ^ of applying thought to the subject, and test his success in 
digesting what he reads. 

BY THE EMINENT PROFESSOR OF PHYSICS, 

SYLVANUS F». THOMPSON, D. SC. B. A., K. R.A S- 


Revised Edition i2mo, cloth, 468 pp., with copious Index, and 
nearly 200 Illustrations. Price, |i.oo. 


Partial Contents : Frictional Electricity ; Magnetism ; Current Elec- 
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{^Seni fost -paid on receipt of price. 


AMERICAN PUBLISHERS CORPORATION, 
3tO'3i8 Sixth Avenue. New York. 



A BOOK FOR LOVERS OF BIRDS AND 
ADMIRERS OF NATURE 

By Mauricb Tbomrson. 

state Geologist and Chief of the Department of Natural History of Indiana, 
and author of “Sylvan Secrets in Bird Songs and Books,” “His Second Cam* 
paign,” “Dong ^tremes,” etc. , 

The Contents : In the Haunts of the Mocking Bird ; A Red-Headed 
Family ; Tangle Deaf Papers ; The Threshold Of the Gods ; Browsing and 
Nibbling; Cuckoo Notes; Birds of the Rocks; A Fortnight in a Palace of 
Reeds ; Some Minor Song Birds ; Out-Door Influence in Diterature. 


“A delightful book for every home library ; a charming gift.” 

“Maurice Thompson is an ordained prophet of Nature! whenever hetalks 
of either Birds, Weather, or Archery, the very leaves on the trees stop rustling 
to listen, and the clouds stand still in the blue to wonder .” — The Chicago 
J^oumaU 

i2mo, cloth, 179 pp. Price, 75 cents. 


THE CHOICE OF BOOKS 

A NOTABLE BOOK OF ADVICE 
AND SUGGESTION. 

BY PROFESSOR CHARLES F. RICHARDSON. 

Author of “Primer of American Diterature ;” “The Development of Ameri- 
can Thonght “American Poetry and Fiction ;” etc. 


“It is seldom that one finds so much wisdom based on a consensus of ex- 
perience as is obtained within the lids of this book .” — Public Opinion, Neat 
York. 

“It is in many respects of the highest value.”— CSwcitinafi Commereiai 
Shzxette. 

Partial Contents. What Books to Read; How Much to Read* Re- 
membering What One Reads ; The Art of Skipping; The Use of Note Books; 
Howto Read Periodicals; What Books to Own; The Use of Translational 
Reading Aloud and Reading Clubs ; The Reading Habit, etc. 


I2mo, cloth. Price, 75 cents. 


AMERICAN PUBLISHERS CORPORATION. 
310-318 SIXTH AVENUE, NEW YORK. 


A FAIR MAID OF 
MARBLEHEAD 


A STORY OF MASSACHUSETTS. 

By Mrs. Kate Tannatt- Woods. 

^Author of “The Minister’s Secret,” “That Dreadflil 897,** 
“Hidden For Years,” Etc.) 


l^mo, 50 Cents, aotJi, 243 pp, PHce, $1,WK 


aforesaid is SO chanwlng by 
nature that she does not have to do anything improper or foolish 
to make herself interesting . . — New York Herald, 


*^This hook is full of pleasant pictures of New England 
life . . — The Pic ay une^ New Or leans y 


**A. New Englaud idyll ^ of love and peace and happi- 
ness found among a quiet, good, simple people.** — The Sun^ Paltu 
more. 


*^T1ie Characters are strongly drawn and altogether thf 
Interest of the story is so well sustained that one reads on and ott 
and so until the end.’* — Outingy New York. 


• *.4 n wnwswaWt/ /res3^ and charming love story ... It 
should be read on a seashore piazza on a warm summer day to be 
throughly appreciated.,* — Literary World, Boston^ 


AMERICAN PUBLISHERS CORPORATION. 

310-31S SIXTH AVENUE. NEW YORK. 



•*•11 old tong tsland*s sea-girt store many an tour t’ve wtllea away.** 

LEOENDSOl^ FIRE ISLAND 

BEACH 

and the 

SOUTH 

SIDE 


COLLECTED AND PRESENTED 

BY PROFESSOR EDWARD RICHARD SHAW, 

Of New York University. 


Illustrated. Many of the illustrations are from photographs 
taken by a medallist of the Royal Photographic Society. i2mo, 
cloth, 2i2pp, with appropriate designs and stamps in ink and 
gold on cover. Price, 75 Cents. 


TFiK COrsnrKNTS. 

THE POT OF GOLD; THE MONEY SHIP; THE 
MOWER’S PHANTOM; THE MINERAL-ROD; ENCHANTED 
TREASURE ; WIDOW MALLOY ; THE BOGY ON THE 
BEACH; NOTES. 

Concerning these stories of the folk-lore and tradition that 
pertained to the Great South Bay: 

The Netv York Times, says “particularly well told is ‘The Widow Malloy.* " 
The Detroit Free Press, says “perhaps ‘The Mower’s Phantom’ is the best.’’ 
The Atnet'ican Philadelphia, says “The best of them is ‘The Mower’s 
Phantom.’ ’’ 

The Commercial Adrertiser, New York, says “The best is ‘The Pot of Gold.’ ’’ 
27te Evening Post, New York, says “The worst is ‘The Pot of Gold.’ ’’ — Reader, 
what say you? If you have not read the books, you miss a literary treat. 
The New York Herald, says “The stories are well told and we think that 
many a reader will regret that there are not more of them. Legands of all 
countries and of all times are wonderfully fascinating, especially those which 
relate to our own Country. 

•*. . . There are also some serviceable explanatory notes, and some excelleut 
Illustrations.’* 

A. DeJigbitfLil Boole for tloe Centre 'Ta.blo. 


AMERICAN PUBLISHERS CORPORATION 

310-318 SIXTH AVENUE. NEW YORI^, 


Edward W. Townsend’s Books 


A DAUGHTER OF THE TENEMENTS. 

i2mo, 301 pp., with 40 full-page Illustrations by K. W. Kemble. 
Price, cloth, $1.25 ; paper, 50 1 ents. 

“The different types of character met with in the tenements of New York 
city are faithfully portrayed, and the reader is introduced into those unsavory 
precincts of the tenderloin districts generally shunned by polite society. Car* 
minella, the daughter of the tenements, deserted by her father when a baby, 
preserves her innocence through the watchfulness of her mother, Mrs. Cortesa, 
and becomes a famous dancer.” — Baltimore American. 

“You find, in this book, side by side with the most loathsome criminality, 
a degree of heroism which is' startling ... There is merriment in the 
book . . .” — New York Herald. 

“In some points there is, in Townsend’s ‘A Daughter of the Tenements/ a 
•txong resemblance to Dickens.” — Atlanta Constitution. 


CHIMMIE FADDEN, MAJOR MAX, and OTHER 
STORIES. 

ItLHSTRATED. i2mo, cloth, 346 pp. Price, |i.oo ; paper, 50 cents. 

“Nobody in this country has found more genre strength, more distinct 
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Mr. Townsend. His Chimmie Fadden is as unctuous a study in Bowery 
fashions, habits and class-levels as will ever be written.*’— CAicago Neius. 

CHIMMIE FADDEN EXPLAINS, MAJOR MAX 
EXPOUNDS. 

i2mo. Price, cloth, $i.oo; paper, 50 cents. 

**. . . It is a masterpiece and deserves to be read by everybody.”— 
Times. 


Over 100,000 Copies Sold of the Chimmie Fadden 
Books — Why? 


Because: *‘The books are distinctly original .”— York 
Tribtme. 

“Chimmie Fadden is delightful . . . The reader would 

like more of him.”— Talk, San Francisco. 


Beacuse the Press and the public are as one man m apprecia- 
ion of these books, and, dramatized, the play of 
len” is everywhere hailed with delight and applauded with enthu- 


giasm. 


AMERICAN PUBLISHERS CORPORATION. 

310-318 SIXTH AVENUE, NEW YORK. 



Ardath; The Storij of a Bead Self, an Occult Novel. By Marie 

Corelli. i2mo, cloth, gilt top 

Btoasouifi and the Fruit. {Hie), A Novel. By Mabel Collins. i2mo 

cloth 

paper , 

Clothed xvith the Sun, An Bsoteric Book. By Anna B. Kingsford. 

i2mo, cloth 

paper 

Breams and Bream Stories. By Anna B. Kingsford. i2mo, cloth 1.25 

paper .^o 

Idyll of the White Lotus, with an Bpitome of Theosophical Teach- 
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i paper 50 

Jfarma, an Occult Novel. By A. P. Sinnett. i2mo, cloth 75 

Magic, White and Jilack. By Franz Hartman, M. D. i2mo, cloth 1.25 

paper 50 

Mortal the Mahatma, Or, The Black Master of Tibet, A Novel. 

* By Mabel Collins, izmo, cloth 1.25 

paper 50 

Heila Sen, and my Casual Beath. Two Love Stories. By J. H. Con- 
nelly izmo, cloth 1.25 

paper 50 

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izmo, cloth 1.25 

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paper 50 

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an Appendix of Various Occult Topics. By Franz Hartmann. 

izmo, cloth 1.25 

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paper 50 

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paper 50 

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stored to Fife. By Marie Corelli, izmo, cloth, gfilt top 1.25 

paper 5<i 

Salem Seer, fTJte'. An Account of Phenomenon Produced through 
the Mediumship of Charles H. Foster, with Portrait. By G. C. 

Bartlett, izmo, cloth 50 

There is No Death. An Investigation of Spiritualism. By Florence 

Marryat. izmo, cloth ...i.oo 

paper 50 

Upward Steps of Sevehtij Years. A Volume of Reminiscenses. By 

Giles B. Stebbins. izmo, cloth i.gj 


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The Standard s 
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